#/ i will wave a slow flag for years | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

erenoir · 10 months

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𝐟𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮

💿 𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝚏𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚋𝚢 𝚖𝚊𝚣𝚣𝚢 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛

genre: single father!toji, slow burn, angst then fluff, nsfw, MDNI

warnings: 18+ dark content, alcoholism, breeding kink, daddy/mommy titles used, unprotected sex, oral sex, verbal fighting, discussions of abandonment, initial toxic relationship, light gun use.

featuring: toji x fem step-mom!reader

summary: you and toji had met each other at your worst, twin flames fueling each other’s bad habits. you spent weeks upon weeks as on-and-off fuck buddies, manipulating and using each other before throwing one another to the curb again. nothing could save the turbulent relationship of a touch-deprived woman and a man afraid of love, never daring to wave your white flags to one another… until the night toji dropped a bomb that would make or break the two of you forever. | find it on ao3: [☆]

word count: 14.9k

a/n: tell jesus that the bitch is back- i’m kidding! no but really, its been a long year (or more?) of me being away from this blog. i haven't done this in a while, but i have too many delusions and thoughts to not make them into stories, i missed writing too much. anyways, if you like this: reblog, comment, check out my other stuff, etc! luv u xx send toji thirsts in honor of szn 2

“Okay now Megs, daddy and I will be back tomorrow morning, okay?”

Your knees pressed into the cold floor as your fingers tangled themselves in your stepson’s wild, raven locks. The little boy stuck his bottom lip out in protest, your heart swelling at the sight of it. Your thumb met his velvety skin as you stopped a tear from rolling any further down his rouged cheek.

“I don’t want you and daddy to go!” He wailed, a tiny voice strained with big emotions. The glum boy ran into your open arms, clinging to you like velcro. The creamy silk of your blazer swept across the nape of his neck as you enveloped him into a cozy embrace.

“Oh Megumi, you’ll be alright! Your father and I will just be away for the night. Then tomorrow… I can make you all the pancakes in the world for dinner!” His eyebrows knit together and his rosy nose scrunched up as you shook his face in your hands. Little Megumi's messy, toothless grin punctured your heart so deeply. You adored the boy endlessly, even if he wasn’t your son by blood, a connection so spirited manifested itself between the two of you.

“Really mommy?! Do you really mean all of the pancakes in the world?” You let a gentle fingertip feather itself across the tip of Megumi’s nose as you rose to your feet to ruffle the boy’s hair, “Of course I mean it baby! Daddy will do whatever it takes to get you every last drop of pancake batter in the whole, wide, world… isn’t that right, honey?”

You shifted your weight to your left foot to get a good look at Toji, Megumi’s father. He planted himself in his usual crushed velvet armchair that rested in front of the fireplace, thighs sprawled out across the plush cushion. His cheek sunk into the palm of his hand as he ogled at his precious family.

All mine, Toji thought, all fucking mine.

The brooding man sauntered up to you two with ardency, his husky arms snaking around your waist, pulling your backside into his chest and placing a wet kiss to the crook of your neck. Toji rested his hand atop of Megumi’s hair, nearly drowning your little one’s head with its size. You gazed on dotingly as your lover’s biceps contracted when he picked up your son, cooing him into a comfortable silence. The fireplace illuminated the quaint living space an intimate shade of orange, fractals of light bouncing off of the most hidden corners of the room. The shadow of your lover danced across the walls as he rocked the raven-haired child to sleep. You massaged red fingernails into his burly shoulders, feeling the fabric of his black t-shirt ripple between your fingertips.

“We’re so lucky, aren’t we?” You purred into Toji’s neck as you two caressed the light of your lives, sound asleep in his arms. Toji peered over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of you, watching your maternal instincts consume your body as you outstretched your soft hands to the boy. Something within Toji burst in that moment, seeing his lover care for his child as if he were her own.

“Let me take him to bed, my love.” Dark eyes trailed your steps attentively, watching your hips sway as you cradled his son in your nimble arms, your tender hand nurturing the back of his head, holding it tightly to your chest. His pupils dilated when you started whispering lullabies into Megumi’s ear. A series of “Mommy loves you,” and “I’ve got you my baby,” made Toji’s jaw clench and every part of him swell with adoration.

—

You once arrived in Toji’s life as a fiery little creature. Wild, uncaring, and foaming at the mouth for attention. He didn’t see you as anything other than a friend with benefits. It was a fair exchange, Toji satiated your need for unhealthy attention as a girl disowned by her distant parents, and you satiated his need for a little rag doll as a hitman with a severe lack of emotional intelligence. He needed a woman that would do most anything to please him and receive the gratification she so desperately craved in return. Room 4C, that was the room you two would run away to every weekend.

It was a malignant relationship you had, you were unabashedly toxic to one another. Toji would show up drunk on most occasions, and you would allow him to do whatever he wanted to your feeble little body and enjoy every second of it. You would fight just to see who could scream louder, until the misty light from the sun rising sliced through the cracks of the thick curtains. The old motel would’ve kicked you two out if it weren’t for how much business you brought them. Your eyes stung with crazed tears, both of pleasure and pain, and Toji was the one that induced them every time. Every smack to the cheek was met with a tender kiss, and every “I hate you,” was met with a chorus of apologies. You loved each other in wicked ways, but you loved each other nonetheless. You pushed as Toji pulled, never could either of you find a moment of peace to let your fragile emotions rest.

That was until one night where you asked Toji to meet you in your usual room, at your usual time, 8 p.m. Only that night had you two finally waved your white flags and extinguished your venomous behavior to one another.

—

Your toes were painted a wine red as they ran through the fuzzy carpet below you, feet swinging over the twin-sized motel bed. Rain rushed the windows with fervor, the storm warning you had received this morning not clicking in your brain until that very moment. The muffled voices of the news anchors suffocated your eardrums as they grew louder. The silence in the room was painstaking and you didn’t know how much longer you could last solely listening to the rhythmic drips of the leaking bathroom sink. Your eyelids began to droop as the neon leds of the plastic alarm clock flicked from 8:59 to 9:00. The stiff sheets felt like royal silk at that moment, sleep threatening to consume your body. The room around you shut on and off, eyelids blinking slowly, and your mouth dipping into the slightest “o” shape. the cotton of your t-shirt rode up your thighs as you slid yourself under the covers. Toji isn’t coming tonight, truthfully, the thought grazed your mind when it had only been ten minutes after 8, Toji was never any more tardy than that. But as you watched the clock now switch from 9:04 to 9:05, the hint of betrayal that had felt like a pin prick before now felt like you’d just been gutted.

Your body was swallowed in the darkness of the motel room, though you did leave the news on, maybe the late night anchors could keep you company in your lover’s absence. In your dream you saw the dark eyes that taunted you into submission. How pathetic was it to dream about a man who couldn’t care less about you besides what you had underneath your underwear? In your dream you were running, your earthly body was riddled with cold sweats and shivering into oblivion, you heard pounding, it grew rapidly with every step you took, the beat of your heart staying in time, though the pounding felt too real to be fabricated through your imagination alone.

Then your body jolted awake to a vigorous gust of wind, and suddenly the banging became real, and whoever demanded that kind of attention from you at midnight was about to receive a pounding to their face. With your eyes cloudy and vision blurred, you tried to adjust to the dark blue of your surroundings.

“Ah, shit!” The stark yellow light of the bedside lamp blinded you, a shaky hand rested on your forehead to act as a shield to the harsh, artificial rays. The comforter of the rigid bed you laid on grew wet, rainwater dripping from the dark figure that stood above your tired body.

“T-Toji?” You stammered into the abyss, you had no courage to look up and see who had woken you up from your restless slumber. After all, you didn’t want the last thing you saw to be your murderer.

“No, it’s Megumi,” your hand snapped to your side to see from whom such a soft voice was emitted. Above you stood a small boy with porcelain skin and raven hair, he couldn’t have been more than 6 years old.

My god, you thought, he looks just like-

“Toji is my dad, he said to wait in this room while he- while he got m-more of his happy juice… s-so he pushed me through th-that window a-and n-now my knee is bleeding!”

The young boy who tried to remain stoic eventually broke into a fit of relentless tears. He's a child, he’s a- he’s Toji’s… Toji has a child. Your brain went through the motions, trying to ride every wave of the ocean it was thrown into.

Until one of those waves truly hit you- and you realized that there was a fucking child in your room.

And all of the sorrow you felt for the boy had turned into pure, unadulterated rage for his poor excuse of a father.

You peeled yourself from the bed and tripped over the legs of your jeans as you tried to shrug them on while making your way to the door. Your hand stopped at the knob before turning to the kid.

“Fuck… don’t go anywhere, okay kid?” You mumbled as you fished the pack of Marlboro's from the back pocket of your Levi’s and jammed one into your mouth, busting through the door and into the rainy parking lot… search frantically- ferally, for the one person you were dying to see most.

“Where the FUCK are you?! You asshole!” You screamed, voice cracking. “Show your fucking face you… you coward!” You were speechless, running to the middle of the parking lot, and scanning every dark car for someone hiding out- hiding from you. The rain sunk through your tank top, goosebumps pricking your skin, and then next you felt the tears. He was the last person you wanted to cry for, he didn’t deserve it, the fucker would probably enjoy it if you didn’t know him any better.

“Fuck you!” You seethed, bare feet taking you in circles around the flooded lot. “Fuck! You! I hate you!” The tears finally poked through, staining your cheeks with old mascara.

“You always do this shit Toji Fushiguro! I hope you’re fucking dead! You fucking deadbeat father!”

–

After twenty minutes of your parking lot charades, the motel manager had to nearly drag you back to your room- a freezing cold, screaming maniac. The boy- Megumi, was sitting next to you cross-legged on the bed with a patched up knee and an ice cream sandwich from the vending machine three rooms down. He hummed to the tune of the children’s show that played on the television, swaying back and forth in contentment. The fact that you were babysitting the child of the man that you were fuck buddies with amused you as you scoffed to yourself.

“You know… your dad didn’t tell me had a kid,” the little boy’s attention remained fixed on the screen, ignoring you completely while his dark eyes memorized the flashes of color and cartoons in front of him. Hm, he really is Toji’s kid.

“How's your knee, Megs?” Your fingers ran across the pink bandaid you’d stuck over his scrape, making sure the adhesive wasn’t lifting off of his damp skin. Vanilla filling seeped through Megumi’s tiny fingers. Chocolate crumbles littered his plump cheeks as he stuck the final bite of his ice cream sandwich in his mouth, stuffing his cheeks full.

“My knee is fine!” He mumbled through a full mouth, patting his sticky palm over his wound. Your mind toyed with the idea of whether or not now was a good time to mention his father again, but knowing Toji, if you didn’t mention him he wouldn’t even bother coming back. So keeping the boy’s best interest at heart, you casually brought up his father’s name for a second time.

“Megumi… can you tell me where your dad is?” You folded your hands in your lap as you awaited his response. Tears pricked at the boy’s gloomy eyes, a storm just as tumultuous was raging in him as it was outside. Messy palms wiped themselves across his white race car shirt, before they came up to wipe at his face.

“I-I told you… he s-said he was going to get more of his happy juice… he said to wait here with a lady named ___. Th-that’s what he said to do!”

Megumi’s quiet words turned into an erratic tantrum. Tears flooded his eyes as he snorted up a wad of snot, the race car on his shirt slowly starting to drive on wet roads. You were going to kill Toji. You didn’t give a crap about the way he treated you anymore, he had a child who was helpless. And god knows the child was helpless if the person Toji decided to leave him with was you.

The docile boy leaned sweetly into your arms, begging for some form of comfort, it was evident that he’d never received any from his own father before. The sleeves of your sweater moved hesitantly to wrap themselves around Megumi’s shaking body, afraid that if you were to embrace him fully the dam that’s been holding back all of your emotions would suddenly break. It wasn’t your place to nurture this child, it wasn’t your place to offer him another outlet for parental guidance. But as you sat at the edge of the motel bed with the little boy, it felt as if you were sitting at the edge of a cliff, and you could either sink or swim with Megumi’s life in your hands. The moment you felt his frail arms hug you back, the dam fell, and you were in too deep to stop giving a fuck now.

You brought a hand to his wild hair. It stuck up in all directions, he told you earlier that he stole some gel from his dad’s bathroom, and that Toji let him do it however he wanted to. You remember laughing at that, seemingly because it sounded like something Toji would say. Your cheek felt cool against the top of his head, his hair still drying from the torrential storm that brewed just outside the window. Every string inside of you that was holding your emotional state together at the seams had ripped in two as Megumi began to sob more violently than before. His red cheeks moved from right to left across your sweater, wiping snot, drool and tears all over you. With thoughts clouded and the slightest knowledge of how to take care of a child flying out the window, you began to panic. Toji had left his offspring, his flesh and blood, with you, his emotionally corrupted, immature, and attention deprived fuck buddy.

Why?

With tender hands you tuck the covers under Megumi’s petite body. Your heart crumbled completely when you saw how the tears dried on Megumi’s cheeks, how his breathing was congested with mucus, and how his swollen eyes twitched in his sleep. He was having a nightmare. The bed dipped in as you sat beside him and ran fragile fingers over his forehead, sweeping his long hair out of his eyes. For the first time that night you let tears fall from your eyes, as you gazed at the broken child with an instinct to care for him, to help him grow, if Toji wasn’t going to be there to do it. You watched as Megumi’s body relaxed under your touch, his breathing smooth, and his eyebrows drooping. A small smile formed on your face, it was time to fake happiness for this boy, if it meant that he would be okay.

“He’s a g-good kid r-ight?” Your head snapped up as Toji’s overbearing body stumbled through the window, his hand desperately grasping for some kind of support from the wall. God, you really needed to lock that fucking window or god knows what other Fushiguro would trip through it.

An animosity so intense boiled within you, clawing at your stomach, dying to be taken out on the drunken man stood in front of you. The tears returned to your eyes, his silhouette doubled as your vision blurred.

“D-don’t you fucking come near me you asshole,” you whispered, there were no words in the world that could’ve described how badly you wanted to scream at Toji until his eardrums popped. Alas you couldn’t… you couldn’t let Megumi see his father like this.

“Exc-use me but I'd l-like to see my-my son,” words slurred out of his wet lips, a line of saliva falling out of the corner of his mouth.

“Toji… don’t even think for a second I’d let you near him,” your delicate hands pushed against his steel chest, helplessly punching into him to stop him in his tracks. His strong hands wrapped themselves around your wrists tightly as he looked you in the eyes with an intoxicated heat.

“Toji… why? Why wouldn’t you tell me you had a fucking child? Is this who you ran away from every weekend we spent together?” Your hand shakily pointed to little Megumi’s sleeping body, “Do you understand how fucked up that makes me feel? How fucked up that makes you? God! I knew you were a piece of shit but Toji… this is rich, this is- this is the icing on the fucking cake… you disgust me!” You whispered as Toji’s hands repositioned themselves to cup your cheeks, his calloused thumbs coming to wipe the lines of mascara running down your face. Although blank and empty, his stare alone spoke a thousand words.

It told you that he was broken, that he was filled to the brink with regret, that he hated- no, absolutely loathed himself. Toji knew he was a piece of shit, he knew he was wrong for hiding his son from you, and he knew he was wrong for hiding you from his son. He had lasted long enough pushing everything under a compact rug until it couldn’t hold much more, and now every fucked up thing in his life was catching up to him, and you were watching it happen right in this depressing, wet, and cramped motel room.

“I-I didn’t know wh-where else to bring him, I-I mean look at me I can’t be with him right now…” Toji fell to his knees and gripped your calves with his hands, crying into the damp denim of your jeans. You stood stiff, frozen in place and in disbelief at what was happening. The brazen man that you knew so well, that dripped with confidence, with ego, with a sense of security, had shattered completely. Toji’s back muscles contracted as he dry heaved onto the floor, the contents of his stomach just missing your feet. He looked up at you with an empty expression. Snot was dripping out of his nose, his jaw was trembling and his face was littered with tears and red splotches.

“Toji-” You reached for him.

“No… please hear m- me out…”

“I'll listen to you… outside…” You fired, “I’m not- I refuse to do this here when your son is sleeping right there!” You hoisted his body up off the floor as the two of you staggered into the storm. He leaned his body up against the door to 4C as you closed it, boring holes into your head, desperate for you to say anything. You wrapped your sweater around you tighter as rain propelled towards your shivering bodies. You two must have looked mad… drenched, drunken and depressed, in the middle of a storm, enveloped in darkness, hugging yourselves as if that would be of any help. Only the light of the moon and from the other motel rooms made it possible for you to see Toji’s face. The sounds of his rabid sobs mixed with the intensity of the rain pelting the ground, the freezing winds icing over his face sobered him up a bit. Toji began speaking as you looked down at your bare feet once again being swallowed by the wet pavement.

“I don’t trust anyone else,” Toji burns a hole into the parking lot with his stare, watching it flood slowly, he didn't have the guts to look at you, not yet. The single traffic light across the street whipped back and forth in the wind, streaks of light painting the foggy air. You leaned up against the door next to Toji, your tiny body being engulfed by his large, shaking one.

“…I didn’t trust a-anyone else w-with Megumi, I’m a threat to my own fucking kid, can you believe that?” You thought about it for a second, and you could completely believe it, the fact that Toji hid his son from you for this long should’ve spoken for itself. Your somber silhouettes shivered against the outside of the motel, both of your minds racing to deliberate how you would work yourselves through this mess. You almost wanted to laugh, the last people on this earth you would expect to be parents were you and Toji. With the breath kicked out of you, you slid down to the pavement and let yourself hit the ground. You hugged your knees with your shuddering hands and watched the cars slowly maneuver their way around the dimly lit parking lot. Toji’s hand navigates its way to the top of your head and smooths his fingers over your hair.

“Toji… I just have so many questions-”

“So ask them,” for once you looked at him with soft eyes, his voice trembled every time he spoke, you could try to fill the shell of a fractured man with love, with empathy, but everything you could possibly give him would just seep through the cracks of his ego.

“…I keep my circles small… so I didn’t have many options of who to leave the kid with… you’re the only person that I’ve allowed myself to get close to…” He ran a hand over his face, his body began to sink down next to you, extending his legs flat to the ground as his pants soaked with rainwater, “and you haven’t rejected me yet so I threw one more thing on you… is that okay?”

Was it okay? Of all the fucked up things you and Toji have done together, you scoffed in disbelief as your hands began to trace circles on the flooding ground beneath you, swirling rainwater in between your fingers.

“…and his mother?” Your voice cracked as your heart sank at what you could only predict his answer would be. Toji's jaw stiffened, grinding it back and forth as he reached for a pack of soggy cigarettes from his back pocket.

“Shit,” he muttered. He rung out the pack of smokes in his strong hold, the damp paper pushing between the cracks of his fingers. You looked at him and he looked straight ahead, watching small ripples form in the puddles of water upon impact from the rain.

“She’s dead… died when he was just born,” your chest weakened at his words, eyes overwhelmed with sorrow. Toji's lips began to tremble as he tried to bite back his tears. He was tired of crying, tired of not being strong anymore, and tired of not being a good father, for that’s the strongest thing a man could ever be.

“…So the kid got stuck with me… he- I don’t deserve him, I don’t deserve to be a father to a kid as good as him…” In his most vulnerable state, you chalked up the courage to take his hand in yours and rub your thumb over his scarlet knuckles. You sat like that for a while, legs sprawled out over the drenched concrete, the ends of your feet grazing each other ever so softly.

“Toji…” your voice came out barely above a whisper, “…don’t say that… Megumi needs you,” Toji’s breath hitched in his chest as he coughed back the urge to cry anymore, “Megumi needs you to get better for him… that kid- he looks up to you so fucking much. He sat next to me for an hour talking about you alone.”

You pulled your knees into your chest and buried them under your sweater to shield your icy legs from the cold. You felt Toji’s blue eyes burn holes into the side of your head, he was desperate for any taste of guidance.

“You’re lying… the kid barely knows me, he”-

“So help him know you! Toji you can’t fucking give up on that kid… and you sure as hell can’t dump him on me and expect me to make up for the years you neglected him! I won’t fucking do it, not without you…” Your screams broke into a whisper.

You wanted Toji. You wanted him a month ago when he was just an asshole without a kid, and you want him now that he’s just an asshole with a kid. You shifted your body to sit closer to his, his silhouette swallowing yours in size as you curled up next to him on the concrete. Resting your head on his shoulder, he inched his hand towards yours to lift your knuckles to his lips and kiss them gently, one by one.

“Toji…” you continued, your eyes not leaving the ground, “I want to be with you, I want to love you- and if Megumi comes with you I’ll love him too… that’s what you’re asking of me, yeah?” You lifted your head to look at him, leaving your faces only inches apart as you gazed into each other’s eyes. Toji nodded his head slowly, he never asked for help, it was a sign of vulnerability. But the kid was the only exception for Toji, he always has been. He'd always absorb everything like a sponge until he physically couldn’t hold any more dirty water, tearing every time he had to ring out all of his baggage.

“You wanna know why you’re an asshole?” You’re probed, finally striking a light on one of his gnarly cigs and blowing the smoke onto his face. The scarred corner of his mouth twitched upward, enough for only you to notice.

“Pray tell, doll.” He chuckled in a husky voice, his calloused hand reaching for the cigarette you held before you smacked it away. He scoffed, “That came from my pack, you know?”

“The least you could do for me is bum me a cig, no?” You jabbed, the burning cherry hanging from your fingers as your hand bounced around with your words.

Silence.

“Well… you’re an asshole Fushiguro…” You continued without any more permission, hesitant to tell him what you wanted to. You feared you’d opened up too much already. Your tongue dragged over your teeth as you worked out your next sentence.

“You-“ You took a long drag, “You are a raging dick, actually. Because-” you paused to look over at him, and surprisingly enough, you had his complete attention. And his eyes weren’t hardened but- soft. And his breathing was less ragged than it was ten minutes ago. You swallowed hard as his eyes dropped to your mouth.

“You know you could hop on the next train out of here with no intention of seeing me again…” You whispered. “And I’d fucking love the shit out of that kid regardless, right?” He smirked at your choice of words, Toji tried hard not to love things, in the end everything he gets close to fades away and dies. But he believed that he loved you, and he loved the way you were prepared to drop everything to nurture the most secret part of his life. All he could do was stare at your face, gentle, warm, and glowing in the rain. Though it felt like the whole world was after him he felt safe next to you, and he despised the feeling, for it meant that he was prepared to give himself to someone for a second time, and he wasn’t ready to lose another.

“And that’s why I left him with you,” he smirked. He winced as you smacked him across the face, your eyes wide and feral.

“Yeah I know, I know that’s why you did it you fuck!” You scream-whispered, still mindful of Megumi just behind the door. “But don’t expect me to be- h-hot shit at this mother thing- I won’t hesitate to throw you under the bus if it means protecting him!”

You were standing now, and you were pacing, and reality was hitting you, and the adrenaline rush you were riding for the past thirty minutes was wearing off and you were scared. Your hand shook as you rose the dwindling cigarette to your lips, your body shaking from both the rain and the kiss of reality. Struggling to inhale from the damp bud, Toji cut off your train of thought.

“I know you won’t, that’s why I left him with you,” he said sternly, his figure now towering over yours. He grabbed his face in your hands, and it was just as much a loving act as it was a ‘I need you to get your head on straight and focus’ act. He pushed your cheeks in and shook your face ever so slightly, “You listen to me- That. Is. Why. I. Left. Him. With. You.”

He spoke roughly, dividing every word with a quick pause so you could get it through your head. He pressed his forehead to yours so you were eye to eye. “Hey,” he brushed some matted hair away from your wet forehead. You knew he saw the tears welling in your eyes, and you wish you could push him away so he could never see you cry again. But you couldn’t, you felt that you loved him far too much to do that. Your shoulders shook as you let them fall, you cursed yourself for letting it happen.

“Fucking listen to me,” Toji jabbed, “I left him with you because you- you don’t fear me. You will throw me under the bus, you’ll push me in front of a fucking train, for that kid,” he actually laughed at the thought, “I know no other person that will hold me accountable- even if it meant my bloody death.”

You shook yourself out of his hold, throwing your burnt out cigarette on the ground between you two, setting an imaginary border so you could think clearly away from him.

“Are you sober enough to hear me out?” You asked quietly but not lacking any ounce of aggression.

“Since you slapped the living shit out of me? I’d say I’m pretty okay,” Toji took one step towards you before you stopped him in his tracks.

“You stay over there and you listen to me,” you growled. You nervously rung out your hands, pulling on every knuckle and joint while you spoke.

“… I hope you don’t… run away.” You paused, “No- actually, you will not run away,” Your words left your mouth like you were prophesying commandments to a lost disciple. “He needs you with him, Toji. He is tired of you disappearing.”

Toji listened to you like your voice was the last thing he’d hear in his life, yet he wanted you to stop talking. The more you spoke the more bound to the tracks he felt, and he had never been bound to anything before, he did as he pleased, always. So Toji prayed you wouldn’t utter another word that would keep him here. He had to leave, if he stayed you would get hurt, that’s how it always went. But with every word that left your mouth you pulled him in and glued him to the ground he stood on.

He let out an exasperated sigh as you wrapped a hand in his hair, using it as leverage to push your foreheads back together. He was speechless, there was so much he could say to you, to convince you to kick him to the curb, but his words were stuck in his throat.

“I am tired of you disappearing,” the ropes that kept his body bound to the tracks drew tighter, and in the distance he saw the headlights of a train inching closer by the second.

“I know you think it’s hopeless, that it’s not even worth trying, but your son having any shot at living a normal life is worth fighting for… Toji, please-”

And then the train struck him, just as promised, this wouldn’t be the last one you pushed him in front of.

Your grip on Toji’s hair loosened as his lips crushed themselves onto yours. He pulled you closer, needed you closer, hugging you into his chest as you caressed the sides of his face with your hands, thumbs rubbing at his scarred cheekbones. You tasted like salvation. Toji knew deep down that you were his salvation.

“I’m not asking you to fix me, I’m way past that- I'm just asking you to be patient… for the kid.” He whispered against your lips, the tears that littered your cheeks dampened his. “I care…” he swallowed his words, “...I care about you- alot.”

“Jesus fuck, did it kill you to say that?” For the first time that night you laughed genuinely, and Toji’s mind was clear. It was carved in stone, he had claimed you and now he’s responsible for your life now, alongside Megumi’s. He raised his hands off your hips as if you were a fragile porcelain doll, too afraid to hurt you now that he’s held you- truly, held you. You looked at him questioningly, already missing the feeling of his skin against yours.

“I don't want you to get hurt… I don’t want Megumi to lose anyone else, he needs something I’m afraid I can’t give to him-”

“Shut up,” your eyebrows furrowed together as you shook his head gently, “Don’t go there… you dumb fuck,” bringing his lips to yours once more, he finally released under your touch, the feeling of you safe and in his arms put his restless thoughts to bed.

“I'm here, Megumi is sleeping soundly inside… we’re gonna be okay. Everything is a fucking mess. Because you did kind of fuck it, but we’ll figure it out,” you insisted, taking his hands in yours and placing them on your heart. Toji dropped his head to the crook of your neck and closed his eyes as the soft thump of your heartbeat grazed against his fingertips.

“Do you feel that? I’m alive you asshole… I’m not dead yet.”

—-

Toji knew you would stick around for a while.

He was right, because here you were, two years later, with Megumi cradled in your arms as you carried him up the winding steps of your Victorian home, placing soft kisses on his forehead and lulling him to sleep. Today was the anniversary of that night at the motel, when you met Megumi for the first time and decided to help Toji care for him even when you were entirely lost yourself. You haven’t been back there since, you three left the next morning on a train and never looked back. You told Toji that if you did it would be bad luck, so he kept moving forward for you and his son, to finally give him a life he deserved. But tonight you two thought it would be nice to visit one more time, on your anniversary, just for old time’s sake.

Toji watched as you tiptoed back down the steps and gave him a gentle thumbs up, signaling that Megumi had finally fallen asleep. Toji wrapped his arms around your waist and lifted you up into him, peppering kisses all over your blushing face. You placed a sloppy kiss onto his lips before jumping down and giving him a little twirl.

“C’mon baby, let’s go!” You wrapped your hand in his and dragged him to the door. His face relaxed into a content smile, after all this time, his little bird was still as free as ever.

—

Around your neck you donned a good locket that Toji had gotten you for your birthday, it moved up and down against your chest as you took deep breaths standing in front of an old friend. The door to room 4C looked just as you left it, with a few more cracks here and there. Your body shuddered as you looked down at the ground in front of it, still feeling the presence of your younger self clad in a drenched sweater, curled up next to a younger, drunken Toji. A warm smile spread across your face as you remembered how scared you two were, unsure of the world and without a plan, shivering in the pouring rain as you thought about your futures together.

Tonight the sky was clear, the only thing that surrounded you was the sound of cicadas singing. You looked up to your side as you felt Toji’s fingers intertwined with yours, holding onto your hand loosely. He looked down at you and smirked, although you two were much more mature and cared about whether you lost your lives or not for Megumi’s sake, deep down you two would always be the notorious fuck-ups that happened to fit perfectly together.

“Wanna wreck some havoc one last time?” he asked you. You giggled as your hand twirled the brass doorknob, entering the room that you and Toji made love in more times than you could count, the room that you got high in, got drunk in, the room that you fought in, that you threw television remotes at each other in… the room that you eventually fell in love in.

Your fingertips grazed the stiff blankets, the cherry red countertops, the cheap coffee maker, as you took every detail in. Everything was left just the way it was on the night. You let out a chuckle underneath your breath as you sunk your fingers into the mattress, remembering how Megumi’s body slept here soundly as you and Toji decided what the fuck you were to make of yourselves just outside.

“I'm glad you pushed Megumi in here that night…” you whispered as you lifted the blanket up, they could never remove the stain of his chocolate ice cream sandwich from the white sheets. Toji watched as you reminisced, taking in every inch of you, before your eyes finally met as you dragged your gaze across the tacky flower paintings that decorated the walls. Your eyes rested on his face as you drank the sight of him in. Toji was happy, he was at peace with what his life had turned out to be.

“The way it all happened was absolutely fucking ridiculous I hope you know that…” You rolled your eyes at him as he crossed his arms and leaned up against the kitschy wallpaper. “...but I wouldn't change a thing, it happened the way it did for a reason.”

He watched as your hips swayed back and forth underneath your black slip dress, his heartbeat speeding up as you draped your arms around his neck and leaned him further back into the wall. Toji, the hardened man that could effortlessly punch through anything that looked at him the wrong way, softened immediately when he was with you. You were his biggest source of strength, but his ultimate weakness nonetheless.

“Hold me, Toji,” you whispered as you brought your lips to his, feeling his brute arms tie themselves around your tiny waist, “…I love you baby,” you murmured as your lips moved against his.

“Thank you,” Toji had spoken for the first time since you two entered the room, too enamored with you to form any coherent words until this point. He watched as the orange light from the bedside table illuminated the back of your head, the halo of light framed your face like an angel.

“What?” you continued to pepper kisses all over his face, gently alternating back and forth from each cheek as your fingers played with his dark hair.

“For saving me… for loving Megumi… you didn’t have to fucking do that… you could’ve been free but you chose this life,” he pulled you up into him, shoving his face into your neck and taking in your scent. Toji was deathly afraid of losing you, so when he held you, he held you like it was going to be the last time he’d ever get to. You were his second chance at life, and if he could, he’d have you by his side forever.

“And I wouldn’t have chosen any different.” You croaked, your fingernails grazing the back of his neck.

“I wanted you then Toji and I still want you now, heaven and hell would have to meet on this earth to get me to stop loving you…” Your words were barely above a whisper, making sure they were for him and only him. Toji’s lips began to move against your neck and his hand tugged your head back by your hair, giving him more room to mark you.

“Toji, plea-“ You whined breathlessly, eyebrows furrowing together as everything inside you became bubbly and grew more sensitive with every touch.

“Have you ever thought about…” His lips paused against your neck, his grip on you tightening before he let up, “Fuck it, nevermind.” He shut himself down before he could even finish his thought. You nudged his head out from where it was hiding on your shoulder and forced him to look at you. You always found it funny that you held such a threatening man like putty in your hands.

“No… say it, tell me please,” you rested your hands on either side of his face, letting him know it was okay, you gleamed up at him as the flashes of the television reflected in your eyes, his heart swelled at the sight of you. Toji broke his eye contact with you, anxious of how you’d respond to his question. Toji was anxious. And you could feel it. And then his jaw clenched before his grip on you tightened once again, even now he couldn’t let the fortress that he hid inside break.

“Have you ever thought about… having another kid?” His eyes were dark, and a grin almost devious teased the corners of his mouth, and all of a sudden you felt how you did two years ago. And the Toji you fell for was standing there and he was so close to you and you were in his arms. He was teasing you like you were helpless teenagers in love. And though you loved Megumi so deeply- he was safe with the nanny at home… and you and Toji were just you and Toji again. You wanted him as fiercely as you did two years ago, and you wanted him to make love to you the way he did two years ago. Everything had been so gentle since you two were last here, and you watched Toji grow into an amazing father. You understood that he treated you like glass because he didn’t want to lose you like he has everyone else. And he was so good to you. But fuck, he was too good sometimes and you wanted that asshole back.

You pushed yourself into his chest and nudged his face in your direction with your nose, smiling softly as you watched a storm brew in his eyes alone. Your breasts nearly spilled out of the neckline of your dress as you pressed your chest to his. You felt him tense as you licked your way up from his neck to his ear, placing a kiss on the sensitive skin behind it.

“Toji… I think about it everyday,” you whispered, his grip around your waist tightened as he exhaled sharply, as if he was holding himself back.

“Do you think about a boy or girl?” He teased, beginning to trace his fingers on your thighs just below the hem of your dress. Your body instinctually moved into his, your words caught in your throat and your eyes lost in his. Toji smirked down at you, watching the way you curled around his finger so easily.

“Hey,” he snapped, taking your chin in a firm hold, “What did I ask you, princess? Stay with me.”

His other hand that remained just underneath your ass rose a few inches to give it a taught squeeze. He chuckled softly watching you twitch at the sensation. With your chin still in his hand he snapped your face to the left, pressing his nose against your cheek and inhaling deeply, before placing a hard, sloppy kiss to it.

“Tell me.” He pushed your face back so it was an inch away from his, “Do you want me to give you a boy or a girl?”

The stench of lust stained the walls, the carpets, the bedsheets, your clothes… it stuck to everything. This fucking room made the two of you feral. Toji had you melting in his hands and you wanted him to mold you to fit perfectly to him. Your hands traced down to his chest, feeling the muscles that pulled underneath his fitted black shirt. You took handfuls of the fabric into your fists as you smashed your lips to his, and he reciprocated immediately, like he was a robot built to respond to your commands. His hands flew everywhere, feeling every inch of you. They traced your thighs, slipped under your dress and up your spine, they traced the curves of your breasts and trailed up your neck, before stopping at the back of your head, bringing your face impossibly closer to his. He wanted you to mix together like a forbidden cocktail, whiskey and vodka, dark and light, never to be put together but when they are, they can be deadly.

You pushed from his unforgiving hold, to look up at him, the two of you breathing heavily, gasping for air like all that was left in the room was sucked out of it. You stumbled backwards as he watched you quizzically, wondering why the fuck you weren’t glued to him right now. You wanted him to see you, fully. So you stopped walking backwards until your legs hit the end of the bed.

Slowly, your fingers toyed with the hem of your dress, your cheeks heating as Toji smirked and crossed his arms. He watched you with a tilted head and his tongue poking at his cheek, in disbelief that you were his. But his smile dropped when you took hold of your dress and inched it up your soft skin, revealing the lace panties you had been wearing. Then you pushed the silk fabric past your belly button, and Toji could only imagine how that stomach would look big and swollen with his child. You stopped there, and slowly dragged your hands around your stomach, before they rested on top of your womb, your eyes never leaving one another.

“I don’t care about the gender of the baby… as long as it’s our baby and we take care of it together,” you whispered as you fixed your gaze on Toji’s chest, too nervous to look him in the eye. A primitive feeling ignited within him as he witnessed those words leave your mouth. Someone wanted him, not for dirty work, not to be used, but to love him and share a love with him, he never thought himself capable of feeling compassion for another like this in his life. He wanted to claim you in every sense of the word, fill you up, and burn his name onto your heart.

“You wanna give me a baby?” He growled from across the room, his shadows reached you from six feet away and enveloped your body, the vibrato of his voice shooting straight to your core. The idea of Toji marking you permanently made your insides curl, wet at the thought of it. Your eyes filled with lust and need, begging him to take you right here. He lost all of his senses as he looked at you turning into a needy little thing for him, breasts supple and on display as they heaved up and down. He imagined how they'd swell and fill with milk for his child, his gaze shot up to your lips, wet as you bit and licked at them, stains of the dark lip liner you had put on before you left, remaining on your skin like a ghost. Then they shot to your eyes, nearly tearing up with need, need to be touched and his completely. Something in you shifted when his gaze softened and his stance relaxed.

“Fuck… I wanna give you a baby Toji.” You whispered as you felt the first tear roll down your cheek, and within seconds Toji was up against you once more, lips molding to yours and his hands tangled in your hair. The weight and force of him pushed you back as you prepared to hit the bed. You took one of his hands from behind your head and placed it on your stomach, pausing from the kiss to look at him, saying all you needed to tell him with the one stare.

The rubber band inside of him snapped in that moment, he was madly in love with you, and the way you cared for Megumi so tenderly drove him up a wall. Watching you rock him to sleep, cook him breakfast in the morning, dance carelessly around the living room with him in your arms- he wanted to do it all over again with you, and start at the very beginning this time. He nodded frantically and wordlessly as he laid you back on the bed, pulling the heels off your feet as he crawled over you until he’d pushed you to the head of the bed, eyes never leaving yours. His lips met your collar bone, sucking on the skin that peaked beneath the strap of your dress, you wrapped a hand in his hair and pushed him into your chest as you whimpered, desperate for more.

He pulled his lips from your skin, placing a chaste kiss on the fresh bruise he mouthed onto your chest before placing a strong hand on your stomach, the other bringing itself to your head to make you look at him.

“Fuck, princess… tell me what you want again.” He whispered, pushing down on the soft skin of your stomach and tracing circles around your belly button with his thumb. Something about that movement turned you feral, as Toji hit all the right spots within you with his words. You crashed your lips into his as you growled into his throat, staking your claim on him. Toji was yours, and you wanted to make sure he knew it.

“M’hm…” You hummed as you rotate your hips into his thighs, “I wanna have your baby,” Toji squeezed your thighs before he pushed the rest of your dress up above your head, nearly panting as he watching your breasts spill out. He took one nipple into his mouth and the other in his hand, your body arching at the sudden change of pace. He sucked and twirled his tongue around the sensitive bud, the other hard and taught between the rough pads of his fingers. You always loved the way Toji could handle you, he was the only man that was ever able to give you exactly what you needed. It had always been that way, just you and him, becoming experts in each other’s bodies, memorizing every curve and trigger that made one another sing.

He lifted himself up from your breasts so that his face was hovering above yours and your head was trapped between his arms, he looked at you… and for a second you could’ve sworn you saw sadness wash over his face.

“Tell me what you want me to do to you and I'll do it, tonight you have me completely,” Toji whispered, tracing the contours of your face. You hid in his shadows, unsure what to make of that statement. Your breathing was ragged as you searched his face for the cause of the sudden gloom he casted over the bed you two occupied. You reached up to trace the dips of his jaw and cheekbones, back around his head before your fingers lingered over his lips.

“Toji, what’s wrong?” You asked wearily, “Don’t I have you completely every other night we spend together?” His gaze saddened, and this time it definitely had. You grew incredibly nervous, because despite the fact that you had Toji for two years… deep, deep down, you knew that he was a force that couldn’t be tamed.

“I don’t want to lose you,” he whispered, his forehead dropping to your shoulder. He laid his body weight on top of you, caging you into him as if to protect you from an impending doom.

“And because I can’t lose you…” Your breath hitched in your throat at his next set of words. You couldn’t let him finish.

“Toji… no.” You whispered, wrapping your arms around his back and hugging him into you.

“I’m sorry, I have to.” He shook in your hold, his hand wrapping around the back of your head and pushing it into his neck as you began to sob. You struggled to escape his grasp, you needed to fucking breathe.

“Toji… get the fuck off of me.” You bit through tears, but he wouldn’t budge.

“Let fucking go of me!” You pushed, squirming away when you felt him loosen up. You tripped your way out of the bed and hid yourself in the corner of the room, between the big TV and the bathroom. You sheltered your naked body by crossing your arms over your chest and your sobs became uncontrollable. You burned holes into his back as he knelt on the bed with his hands unfolded in his lap, he stared at them, empty and without you in them.

“I have to leave-“ He began.

“Shut up.” You whispered, begging him to stop.

“It’s the only way you and Megumi will be safe.” He pushed.

“I don’t fucking care-“

“You don’t care about my son?” He screamed into the void of the bedsheets, the palms of his hands digging at his weary eyes. The statement shook you, it clawed at the deepest parts of you and ripped them out. Left you gutted.

“How f-fucking dare you…” You choked, his back was still turned to you. You looked around the room in frantic disbelief, fists punching at your head. “You can at least turn around… and fucking LOOK AT ME… While you tell me that I don’t care about MY SON!”

You were towering above him now, for once in the years you had known this man the power dynamic had shifted. What was different was that you’d experienced another kind of love, and that love left you with a reflex that would cut anyone that threatened it. Toji had been training you up for this moment, the one where he would finally say he was leaving again, and you’d have to be there for Megumi on your own.

You shoved at his back and he didn’t budge, so you shoved again, and again he didn’t budge.

“He’s my son too….” You seethed, “ And I will not let you sit there with your back turned to me…” You continued as you rounded the bed so you were facing him. “Just so you can fucking tell me that I don’t care about him!”

He kneeled as still as a statue, the silence surrounding him almost sickening. And the more you stared at Toji, the more you wanted to laugh. You were not going to fall for his bullshit game again, because in the two years that you’ve loved him you’ve also learned him.

“You’re a coward, Toji…” You shot to kill. “If you meant what you said you can look me in the eye and say it again.”

Knowing he wouldn’t budge, you crawled onto the bed and kneeled beneath him, forcing yourself to look up into his eyes. They looked empty.

“Go ahead and tell me that I don’t love my son, Toji,” you smirked, eyes wild and alight as they were when Toji first set eyes upon you years ago, when he knew he had to have you. You grabbed his chin and tilted it upwards as you crawled into his lap, straddling him so he had nowhere to go, nothing else to look at but you, nothing else to feel but you. You put your lips to his and growled, nothing but heat laced in your words.

“Be a man… be a father… and tell me that I don’t love my fucking son.” A tear slipped down his cheek, and you could see mountains move in his eyes and you watched the walls of that fortress crack after two years. His hands fell to your hips, locking you in.

“I can’t,” he whispered, “I can’t tell you that.” Sorrow held heavy in his gaze, as he tried to kiss you with your lips on his. You wouldn’t let him, pushing his face back into place.

“Then tell me… why you would lie to me Toji,” you asked softly, your sadness, your embarrassment returning. “Why would you leave me again? Have I not been good enough-“

“No,” he cut you off, “No, never.”

“Then what is it! Tell me why you’re leaving- again!” You sobbed, your vision of him blurry now. Your hands wrapped around the back of his head as you pulled his body into your bare chest, feeling the wetness of his cheeks against your breasts. You dropped your head into the crook of his neck and sobbed, “What haven’t I done to make you see how much I love you?”

“It’s not what you didn’t do,” he resolved, “It’s what you did do.” You shook as his fingers kissed up and down your spine. “You have done everything- I could’ve asked for. I am scared of the way I love you… and I am scared of the way you love me.” He tried to pull your face from his neck but you were the immovable statue this time.

“Look at me,” He says sternly, forcing you from your hiding spot. He places a tender kiss to the corner of your mouth. “I have never loved someone so much. I can’t stay away from you and I think that’ll be our downfall if I don’t leave now. My plan was never to stay, I was going to leave you with Megumi… but god, you’re like a fucking magnet. Of course I stumbled in after him and when I saw you sitting on that bed with him… my fate with you was set in stone, princess.”

You were a blubbering baby, your hands holding his face as your thumbs rubbed his cheeks back and forth, like they were trying to memorize every scar and curve. You kissed his cheek as he continued, “It is everything you have made me… that’s the reason I have to leave. My work isn’t safe, once they know how soft I’ve become you will be the first people they target.”

“Toji, I d-don’t care!” You blurted out, “I don’t care… I can take care of myself, I can take care of Megumi. Teach me then, huh? Teach me to f-fight o-o-or use a gun… please Toji… I need you here.” You weren’t even sure of what you were saying, you were just saying anything to keep him here longer.

“You are all I have left-“ He pushed.

“As you are to me!” You bit back.

“Toji, you are all I have… please… please can we try?”

You practically begged, “What about our baby? Was that all just shit to get me to sleep with you one last time? Hm?”

“No, of course not!” He shot back, words fiery and filled with passion.

“So you were gonna what? Toji? Knock me up and leave?” You asked silently, holding your eye contact with him. “Because I really wanted- I really wanted to have that with you.”

He bit back tears, swallowing deeply as you drilled into him. He just shook his head, if he wanted to keep you in his life he had to do this. He had to let you go. He gently pushed you off of him one last time, wincing when he felt you reach for him, your hand gracing his.

“N-no Toji… no, please,” you begged, his heart tearing as he walked closer to the door, gathering his things slowly. He jolted when he felt your small body press into his back, hugging him from behind and shaking. It took everything in him to fight the urge to place his hand over yours. But feeling you slide to the floor behind him made him turn around to look at you. He had done it, he had broken you, and for the first time in his life he was disgusted that he had done that to someone.

“Get up,” he choked.

You refused.

“Get. Up!”

“No.”

“I’m not leaving you on the floor like this-“

“Then don’t fucking leave! You asshole!” You screamed at him wildly, smacking at his legs with weak jabs, the picture of a child throwing a tantrum.

“If you ever loved me or Megumi you would stay!” You cried, “You would stay… and you would try for us…”

“You can’t say that-“

“Yes I can because it’s true,” you shot your words at him like bullets leaving a gun, short and quick, one after the other.

“When I agreed to take Megumi under my care… I said I would do it only if you stayed with me. I said I wasn’t going to let you run away. And if you think for a second that I didn’t mean it then you really are fucking dense Fushiguro.”

Toji’s mouth quirked at the sound of you using his surname, you haven’t done that for a while. He set his sights on you for a reason all those years ago, he knew you were strong, he knew you were unwavering. He just never thought he’d meet someone as stubborn if not more stubborn than him. That’s why he knew you were the one he was going to leave Megumi with. And even now as he looked down at you he knew he made the right decision. You would chase him into the parking lot naked if he made a run for it and he knew that. No one was better for his family than you. His heart dropped when he felt your hand reach up to his, releasing him from his train of thought. You were beautiful. And he was sorry. And stupid for thinking that this wasn’t going to go over without a fight. He tightened his grip on your hand and knelt down to kiss it. Every knuckle. Every fingertip. And he knelt into your touch when you cradled his face.

You saw him make a swift movement from the corner of your eye, and you couldn’t move fast enough when you felt a piece of heavy metal weigh down your hand. In it Toji had placed a gun, you knew he always carried one but he’d keep it concealed around you. So you’d never actually seen it. To be holding it right now… you didn’t know what to do. You watched him as he moved to kneel behind you, his hand never leaving yours that held the revolver.

You gasped as he brought an arm around your waist, fixing your posture so you were upright. And he adjusted your arms so the gun was pointing at the door of the motel room. His hands laid loosely over yours and his head rested in the crook of your neck. Your breathing grew heavy when he traced from your hand all the way back to your upper arm, fixing its position and propping it up at a 90 degree angle.

“It’s like a dance, you see.” He whispered into your ear.

“If you hold it properly, and give it room to move,” he loosened your grip on the trigger.

“Not too tight, princess…” You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding.

“It’ll hit all the right steps…” His finger covered yours on the trigger and you felt your heart stop, “and you’ll shoot ‘em dead.”

“Bang!” Toji mimicked the sound of a gun as you jumped backwards into him and screamed, eyes squeezed shut. But you didn’t feel the reverb of the gun, you didn’t hear anything piercing the wooden door, only the vibration of Toji’s low chuckle in his throat. You turned around to see him propped up on both arms, staring at you in amusement while you stared at him in shock.

Your hands shook as you examined the gun in your hands, before looking back up at his smiling face. His hands covered yours as he slowly took it out of your grip.

“What the fuck, Toji?” You whispered, scared as if you’d actually shot something.

“Safety’s on, sweetheart.” He teased, wrapping an arm around your neck and bringing you into him to place a wet kiss on your mouth. “I’ll let you do the real thing once you start getting good.”

“What?” You stared at him in disbelief, but he didn’t miss that glimmer of excitement in your eyes.

“I’ll teach you how to use a gun, I’ll teach you to fight, I’ll teach you whatever you want to know… so we can keep our kid safe.” He whispered, looking down at you with a warm smile on his face.

“Yeah?”

“Yes…” He whispered, “…I love you.” He added.

“I love you too,” you almost didn’t believe it.

“I mean it… I love you.” He repeated, like he could read your mind. But you were still hurt, and angry, and everything bad you could feel you felt.

“I- prove it to me… that you mean it… I’ve proved myself to you enough tonight Toji… and I won’t stand to be made a fool,” your words bit, and you hope he felt them draw blood. Toji pulled you back into his chest and buried his face in your hair, taking in your scent.

“You want me to prove it?” He whispered. His hands start to trail up your thighs, his mouth begins to place kisses on your neck. You sighed at his touch, placing your hands over his on your body.

“Mhm,” you whimpered, leaning into his chest, your body becoming overly sensitive to his movements again. Toji’s hands pushed at your thighs, “Open up for me, princess.” You did as you were told, sliding your feet slowly so they could meet his boots on the carpeted floor, putting your clothed heat on display for him. He continued to draw circles on your thighs, more forcefully now, inching your legs open wider.

“T-Toji, please,” you choked out, growing impatient.

“Tell me what you want,” he whispered in your ear, sliding his hand under the waistband of your panties, his cold fingers scorched by your hot skin, “Come on… tell me, pretty girl. Had no problem biting my head off a moment ago.”

“Fuck you,” you seethed through gritted teeth, trying to amass any pleasure from rutting your hips upwards.

“Suppose I deserved that,” he chuckled, you could feel his chest shaking against your back. You leaned back into him and swung either of your legs over his highs, opening yourself up wide and demanding he touch you. “Dirty girl, that’s how you got tangled up with me in the first place- were just too damn needy…” His hand slipped under the crotch of your panties and you jerked as he placed his palm flat against you. Toji hissed at the wetness that met his skin, grabbing a handful of the slinky lace into his fist and tearing the cheap fabric off your body, “I’ll have to get you new ones.”

“Please, Toji, please,” you were practically whimpering, begging for him. Jolting as he slapped your waiting cunt once, catching you off guard as you hissed at him. You placed your hand around his forearm and guided it as he massaged the sting of his strike out.

“Tell me-“ He began again, letting his fingers slide up and down your folds, collecting all of the wetness before bringing them up to your mouth. You looked up at him behind you and he simply raised a brow, silently suggesting that you knew what to do. You took his hand in yours and dipped your mouth down onto the two fingers he pulled from beneath you, licking and sucking your arousal off of them.

“Good girl, now tell me…” He pulled his fingers from your mouth and shoved them back down to your weeping heat, this time pushing them in and curling them upwards, holding you in place as your body contracted.

“T-oji my god!” You gasped at the sudden movement. He shushed you, pressing his lips to your ear as his fingers writhed inside of you, “Shhh… tell me about how you’ve dreamed about giving me another baby,” Toji insisted, a glimmer of that ego shining through as he continued his ministrations, more aggressively this time, beginning to pump two fingers in and out of your cunt.

“Mph-fuck, Toji please-” His fingers continued, pushing in and out of you, kissing your ear when your head dropped back onto his shoulder.

“Tell me, pretty girl, and I’ll give you more,” he began to speed up, wrapping his spare arm around your torso to hold you flush against him, spreading his thighs further, ensuring that your legs spread with him. You moaned at the action, rutting your hips up into his hand as you gave him what he wanted.

“I- I’ve dreamed about it since we first bought the house together…” He began to place chaste kisses on your neck, sucking on the supple skin, adding a third finger inside of you. “Fuck… that’s too much To-”

“I think you can take it, how could you have my kids if you can’t even take three of my fingers, princess?” He started to pump slowly, letting you adjust to the size. “Now, go on.”

Your breathing was disorderly, your hands grabbing onto his thighs as you felt yourself swallow the girth of his fingers whole. “Ah- okay… w-we bought the house a-and, I think…” You thought back to the first time you set foot in the house after it was officially yours, you were in love with the Victorian architecture and since you loved it Toji loved it even more.

“I think watching you paint Megumi’s room that bright blue… seeing you covered in paint… making sure e-everything was perfect for him.” You hadn’t even noticed him speeding up, until he started circling your clit with his thumb and you could’ve sworn you were gonna explode. “Toji- please, I think I’m going to-”

“Not yet… finish,” he urged and you protested before you felt him land another strike to your clit, “Now.”

“Oh, my god!” Your eyes crossed when he resumed, your abdomen shaking at the sensation, “W-watching you made me realize t-that… t-that we were going to b-be okay-ah!” The arm around your torso made its way up to your breasts, pinching and twisting at your nipples. “...It made me realize t-that I want to be in this- w-with you…hmph… for a long t-time…” You looked up at him with pursed eyebrows and your mouth agape, finding him already staring at you. His face was warm, your entire being felt warm. And then he sped up, fingers pounding in and out of you, his mouth dropping back down to your neck to litter it with hickies, your legs grew stiff and you frantically jutted up into the palm of his hand.

“Toji- fuck! Please, please-”

“Tell. Me.” He growled, not letting up on his movements.

“I-I- oh fuck… I realized that I wanted to be with you… f-forever, To-ji. I wanted to h-have more kids w-with you a-and raise a f-amily…” Your eyes held his and you felt your toes curl and your insides turn. His mouth connected with yours, holding your jaw in place, as he growled into your mouth.

“Cum.”

You saw stars as his grip on your jaw tightened, swallowing all of your moans, all of your cries, and drinking them like they were a forbidden elixir. He held your legs open with his, pumping in and out of you relentlessly as he held your shaking body. You felt his length, hard against the small of your back, and you lost it completely when you felt him needily rutting up into you through his black denim. “Fuck Toji! I’m cumming. I’m cumming- ah!”

You two were a sweaty bundle of bodies, desperately rutting into each other, trying to be impossibly close to one another. You reached an arm around his neck and drew him into a wet kiss, hungrily biting and sucking on his lips, his tongue, any inch of him you could take in.

“More. Toji, please, I need you more.” You begged when his fingers finally released you. You wanted each other in ways you never had before, this time was… different. This time you two were consummating your own version of a fucked-up marriage. In sickness and health. In life and death. You would have each other completely. You felt how needy he was, the scent of your arousal on his mouth, on his hands, lingering everywhere, it turned him into an animal. You turned to face him and helped him out of his clothes. Peeling the shirt off his sweaty body as he kicked his boots off, licking a stripe up his abdomen with heaving breaths, your eyes never leaving him as you panted for him, need dripping off your tongue. Once you got to his neck, you began to leave bite marks along his collarbone, his jaw, your bare cunt rutting into his crotch, growling at the cotton boxer-briefs that kept skin from skin. Toji’s hands grazed over your body, tracing every curve and valley, letting you devour him, take him, do what you wanted with him.

“Take these off,” You breathed against his neck, fingers pulling at the waistband of the boxers, he chuckled, grabbing you by the back of the head and forcing your eyes to meet his, “As you wish, mama.”

Sure, there were partners before Toji, and the sex was fine. But no one had ever made you act the way he made you act. You were a partnership of two antagonists, just prodding and poking at each other to see who could make the other crazier. You were sure that tonight, Toji would win.

Mama.

You saw stars at the word and he knew it. Toji watched your eyes grow as dark as his in seconds, trailing his every movement as he lifted his hips up and slid his boxers down his legs. You watched his cock smack his stomach, so rock hard it looked like it hurt. You needed him in cynical, territorial ways. As did he to you.

“If you don’t put a baby in me right now Fushiguro…” His eyes widened at the vulgarness of your demand. He watched you kneel just feet away from him, observed the way your chest was heaving up and down, the locket he gifted you, the one you never took off, moving with it. He noticed the way your breasts looked heavier, nipples puffier. He noticed your arousal dripping down your thigh, he had never seen you so wet. And lastly, he noticed the way your hands guarded your stomach, as if they were guarding your precious womb until he came around to mark it.

“Get on your back,” he barked, climbing over to you swiftly, not giving you time to follow his directions on your own as he had you laid down against the carpet in seconds. He licked his lips as he watched you draw your bitten lips into your mouth, waiting for him to do something.

“Tonight I am going to fucking worship you,” he growled, smashing his lips to yours, jamming his tongue down your throat and licking you everywhere unholy. His lips trailed down your breasts, your stomach, and he stopped above your thighs, leaving bite marks all the way down. He blew a puff of air onto your sticky heat, before teasing you with a small lick. The second your thighs flew upwards his hands held them down, gripping onto the fat like they were lifesavers. He stuck his tongue in your folds, firmly tracing circles around your clit and following the patterns of your vulva.

“Toji!” You screamed, almost as if you wanted him to stop. But that couldn’t be further from the truth, you needed him to keep going. One of your hands tangled in his hair as the other held onto his, your body writhing like a fish out of water as he continued to suck and pull at your core, groaning into you every time you rode your hips against his face.

“I-I can’t, please I’m-” You gasped for air, desperately moving your body up and down with his mouth, riding out the waves of pleasure he was giving you. Your body was still sensitive from your orgasm just moments ago, you felt like you could burst at any moment. But Toji didn’t stop, he kept blowing air onto your clit, fucking you with his tongue and biting the soft skin around your mound. He reached up to grab hold of one of your breasts, squeezing and pinching as he himself ground into the carpet he laid upon. Your moans and your taste were his jet fuel, and he was getting off to every second of it. You watched his ass flex as he repeated his movements, drawing circles into the carpet with his cock. The sight of him desperately humping nothing sent you over the edge, screaming as you pulled at his hair, your thighs closing around his head.

“TojiohmygodI’mcummingfuck!” Your words came out a sloppy mess, unable to do anything but praise him for being so good to you. He continued to place kisses on your inner thighs until you were done riding out your high, your body finally falling back to the floor.

“Feel okay?” He asked calmly, rising to his knees as your body occasionally twitched in your post-orgasmic euphoria. He ran his hands up and down your torso, gently massaging once he got down to your pelvic bones, working out the knots and work you had just put in to getting off on his face. He knelt down to kiss you deeply, tenderly this time, inhaling your scent and running his hand over your head.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered. His eyes searching for answers in yours, “I’m sorry,” he uttered, digging his forehead into the crook of your neck. “I’m sorry I tried to run away, you don’t deserve that.”

“Toji… I- I love you.” He kissed your forehead, his hand hitching themselves underneath your thighs, watching your eyebrows furrow together while he inched your knees up slowly.

“This comfortable?” He asked you for reassurance again and you nodded, and he pushed a little further, until your knees nearly touched your shoulders, you winced a little at the stretch of it, inhaling and exhaling deeply as he waited for you to adjust. When you open your eyes he’s looking down at you, kissing the insides of your calves and massaging them.

“It hurts a little?” He asks again gently and you nod. He chuckles quietly as he leans down to kiss you, you inhale sharply as he puts pressure on your legs, stretching your hamstrings even more than intended.

“If I’m gonna put a baby in you, this is the best way, princess.”

His words ran straight to your core, and you nodded frantically, feeling like a teenager having sex for the first time. So eager to feel him. This time with Toji felt different, call it- fucking with intention. Both of you felt the thickness of the air, you knew how much this meant. He placed a chaste kiss to your lips before whispering against them, “Let me know if you need me to stop.”

Your eyes nearly crossed at the suggestion of him fucking you so hard you’d need to call it in, you just wanted to feel him already, “Mhm… Toji, please.”

His head dropped to your chest as you wrapped your arms around his neck, gripping him tighter when you felt his tip prop itself at your entrance. He laid his body flat against yours, you screamed at the burning in your legs, folded back against you with the weight of his body, but you wanted more. His arms caged your head in on either side and that was when you felt it. Toji watched the way your face contorted, your mouth dropping and eyes squeezing shut as he filled you at an angle he never had.

“Fuuuck,” he exhaled, inching his length into you further and further. He felt you claw at his back, skin sticking under your fingernails as you groaned with him, two animals fucking to conceive. The most primitive state of the human, fucking to reproduce, to bear offspring, to grow a family.

“Toji-”

“Yes, princess,” he cut you off, “Oh fuck,” he gasped, bottoming out inside you, before hoisting your waist up to his and slinging your legs over his shoulders.

“T-Toji I’m so full!” You whined, grabbing onto his thighs folded on the floor as he knelt before you, buried deep in your cunt.

“I know, baby, I know… be good and let me put a baby in you, okay?” He asked, placing kisses to your calves once again. You panted, nodding up at him while he made his first move. You groaned as he pulled himself out, before splitting you back open and bottoming out once again, “Fuck Toji, I need-”

You felt it snap inside you again, whatever it was that made you feral, foaming at the mouth for the feeling of him inside you. “Toji I need you to fuck me…” You ground your hips into his, grasping at anything to give you leverage on his length. He looked down at you wearily, always so delicate, so fragile, “I don’t know if I should-”

“Fuck, Toji! Stop treating me like I’m glass and fuck me!” His eyes grew dark at your words, but still a glint of remorse held him back. You smacked at his chest, then looked down to remember that he was balls deep inside you, he seemed to remember at the same time because his stare turned wicked, “Look at me, Toji... I need you to fuck me baby.”

You felt him begin to pick up his pace, slowly but surely rutting into you, fucking you deeper and deeper with every thrust. “F-uck, Toji!” Your mouth dropped as you watched a string of spit leave his mouth and drip on to where his cock and your cunt met, you gasped for air when he reached down to spread it around, lubing you up and preparing to go deeper, “T-oji, TojiTojiTojiii, please baby.”

“Yes, pretty girl. Fuck yes.” He gritted through his teeth, groaning at the way your tits bounced with every thrust, he reached out and cupped one in his hand, “Fuck, your tits are gonna be so full in a few months…” Your eyes rolled back at the way he groped it, playing with your nipple. Then your eyes fell to where you two connected and his gaze followed, the two of you watching Toji reappear and disappear inside of you, your wetness covering his cock, and his arousal being shoveled deeper and deeper inside of you.

You squealed as he thrusted harder, laying on top of you and rutting down into your heat. “Go ahead and touch yourself for me,” Toji instructed, and so you did. And a familiar feeling began to bubble up in your stomach, and for the third time that night Toji would ruin you.

“Toji, please oh fuck-” He brought a hand up to your sweaty forehead, blowing air on it to cool you down, he then took your hand and placed it on your stomach, smirking as your eyes widened at what you felt.

“Feel that? Feel me inside of you?” He whispered, kissing you swiftly, feeling himself come close. You were a mess of moans and whines and you couldn’t even begin to explain the things that Toji was making you feel.

“Y-yes… yesyesyesdaddyIfeelit!” You cried as you circled your clit faster and pulled him closer, “Fuck yes! Right there baby, fuck me right there!”

Toji growled, his hands now clawing at your thighs, the picture of two animals fucking wildly. Something sent him tipping past sanity as he pushed your legs all the way back, your ass up in the air as he thrusted down into you.

“Call me that again…” He seethed, grinning cynically at the way your eyes glazed over, his hand wrapped itself around your throat, enough to let you breathe. The sensation was overbearing, you started writhing underneath him, squirming and twitching while he kept his pace.

“F-uck,” you choked out, cracking what smile you could with Toji’s hand restricting you, “I want you to fill me up, Daddy.” Toji saw red, and blue, and every color that you helped him see in the past two years, and he fucked them all back into you. He kissed you with tenacity, lips tangled with lips and limbs tangled with limbs.

“I’m close,” he seethed.

“Me too,” you whispered.

“Boy or girl, tell me and I’ll fill you,” he whispered against your lips, saliva, snot and sweat mixing as you two breathed heavily into each other's mouths. Toji’s neck turned red the longer he held in his orgasm, the veins of his arms popping as he held you tightly, maneuvering you so you were in the perfect position to receive him.

“I told you I don’t care,” you whispered back, feeling yourself close to the brink, tears forming in your eyes, “I told you I d-don’t care as long as I raise them with you.”

He smiled, “Pick a wild card.”

You smiled back.

“Girl,” you whispered. With your arms holding him closely against you, Toji began to writhe, his abdomen jerking in and out as he tried to control the strength of his orgasm.

“Fuck!” He screamed, fucking his seed into you, filling you up with himself. You pulled his face to yours and kissed him tenderly while you felt yourself clench around his length, milking him and riding out another orgasm of your own.

“Yes,Toji! Yesyesyes!” You wrapped your legs around his torso and held him there, feeling his body twitch as he continued to shoot loads of himself into you. Your body shook as you took everything he had to give you, placing your hands atop his as he held your legs back, the two of you watching him push every drop that fell out back in.

To think that you and Toji would end up here, there was a time when he was nothing but a fuck buddy to you, and you to him, now you desired something so intimate, so binding to his being. You couldn’t help but laugh breathlessly in his arms, and with that he looked down at you, smiling. Toji admittedly never smiled a lot before he met you, but as he looked down at you, he couldn’t be happier to smile in your presence.

“Do you think we… got it?” You asked him, out of breath.

He raised his eyebrows, “You would doubt my work?” You smacked his chest and pushed him off of you, attempting to stand up but finding yourself weak in the knees. Toji approached you from behind and lifted you up slowly, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into him.

“I think we should try the bed out next,” he whispered, “See if it’s still any good?”

You looked up at him in disbelief, “You want to do that again?”

“You don’t?” He smirked.

“Well I-” You thought for a second while you melted into his hold, “I don’t not want to do that again.” He emitted a dark sound, while kissing the top of your head, and leading you step by step over to the old mattress.

“Remember the first time we had sex here? I think I tied you to the headboard,” he suggested casually. Your hands tensed around his before you spun yourself around to face him, wanting to smack him, grin and all. He pushed himself into you and grabbed handfuls of your ass, lifting you up into him and taking in the sight.

“For old times sake, princess,” he persisted. Your tongue pushed at the inside of your cheek as you considered the idea. You supposed mother’s had to have fun too.

“...Just this once, asshole.”

“God, I love it when you call me that.”

859 notes · View notes

vxntagedior · 1 year

Note

heyy love, i dont know if you are taking requests rn but if you do can you maybe do a ajax x fem reader where they are together and during the poe cup game the reader is distracting him from getting his teams flag so her team can take their own one.

tysm and i hope you could understand this <33

distractions, distractions

summary | using your relationship with ajax, you're able to distract his attention during the poe cup

pairing | ajax petropolus x fem!reader

warning | fluff, ajax is down bad for reader

word count | 1.0k

“I can’t do that to him.” You looked over at Enid, distraught. “I know we want to win but I can’t do that to Jax.”

“Y/n, please.” Enid whined, snaking your shoulders, “This is our year and I don't want those jokers getting in our way.”

You turned towards their boat, seeing Ajax and the rest of them getting the final touches ready for the race. Just before you turned back, you saw that Ajax was now looking your way, “you're going down.” He mouthed towards you.

“You know what,” You smirked, turning back to Enid, “I’ll do it, I think they need a few pegs knocked down.

Enid was now practically screaming for joy, pulling you down towards the docks and into the boats. Getting into positions, you were at the head of the boat. Turning you saw Bianca and Divina already looking at you. Though the three of you were friends, it didn’t matter for the next hour because you needed to win. Turning your head to the other side, looking over at Ajax’s boat who was already looking at you.

Giving him a small smile, and blowing him a kiss, hoping to send him off his game before turning your attention back to the water.

Hearing the gun shoot into the air, the four boats were off. The four of you were making a good pace, knowing if you started off faster, you’d start to slow towards the end.

“Excuse me ladies!” You turned to your right seeing Xavier smirking, pushing themselves into your boat, turning you off the course. Grumbling under your breath, you picked up your pace. Getting caught with an ax over your boat, you all started to continue to row, hearing Wednesday to tell Thing to flip the switch on the neat under the boat.

Passing the Gold Bugs, you gave a little wave to Divina and Bianca finally making it to Raven’s Island. You and Wednesday were the two that were tasked to get the boat while Enid and Maria were to watch over the boat.

“C’mon Wednesday.” You yelled, hiding by one of the trees to catch Ajax. Nodding her head, you watched Wednesday continue through the trail, hearing two voices coming towards you.

“We’re gonna win it this year?” You heard Ajax hear, finally stepping out from the woods.

“I wouldn’t be so sure, love?” You smirked, staring down at him. Xavier just laughed, muttering something along the lines “you’re on your own” before running back towards the boat.

“You look so handsome.” You smoothed down the collars of his costume, “And the jester makeup looks so good.”

You could already tell you were getting to him, seeing his Adam's apple bob as he gulped down, his breath wavering.

“Y/n.” He whined, “I can’t do this right now.”

“You’re just gonna leave me here?” You faked a frown, “I thought you wanted to see me?”

Ajax could never leave you sad, his eyes widening as he started to rapidly shake his head. “No, no of course not.” He was conflicted, Ajax loved you with his whole heart and hated it when you were upset (not knowing you were faking it) but it was a competition and knew how much Xavier wanted to win.

Taking him out of his find, feeling you wrap your arms around him, you just hugged him tightly. Tucking his head in your neck, you smirked seeing Wednesday running back your way, she was able to run past the two of you without Ajax seeing her.

Parting ways, you just adjusted his wrap around his head, before running off back to the boats.

“Sorry Jax!” He heard you yell. Cursing himself, Ajax ran back to the boat, seeing how they were the only ones still on the island. Xavier was pissed along with the two other boys, who know had to haul themselves back to Nevermore.

“You are terrible Y/n.” You heard the monotone voice of Wednesday say, “It suits you.”

You took what she said as a compliment, turning around to see Ajax coming closer towards you, you were surprised that they were able to make it far without sinking.

“Hey, hey, what’s going on.” Bingo.

“I just thought to myself, WWWD, what would Wednesday do?” Enid said happily, knowing it was just the Black Cats and the Gold Bugs left. Seeing the finish line so close, you didn’t feel bad anymore about Ajax, knowing your final show would take the Gold Bugs out.

Rowing closer and closer to their boat, Wednesday flipped the second switch, the daggers coming out of the bed. But as they were to puncture their boat, you felt your own boat being sent back. Looking down in the water, you saw Kent pushing you away. Trying to paddle against him, you heard a small splash in the water, seeing a hand coming towards Kent.

“Good work, Thing.” You smile, the four rowing back to the Gold Bugs.

Watching Bianca’s face as you ruined the boat, made it feel good to know that you all won. Dismounting the boat onto the dock, you quickly tied it to the post before running with your team towards the finish line. The four of you jumped together with the flag in your hand.

Going back towards Nevermore, the entire student body stood in the Quad listening to Weems present you all with the trophy. Cheering with your friends, you looked out to the crowd, seeing Ajax smiling and clapping for you.

Yoko demanded that you all had a party in Ophelia for the win. It wasn’t hard to sneak out after curfew and you knew Weems would make the exception for the one night. The common room of Ophelia was packed with students from all the halls, the music loud, everyone dancing and drinking. You saw Enid practically gripping the trophy with all her strength.

“Congratulations.” You turned to see Ajax standing behind you, “Though we should have won.”

“Really?” You smirked, “because if I remember correctly, you guys couldn’t even make it halfway back.”

You were teasing him at his point, knowing why. “All is fair in love and war.”

“I’ll get you next time.” He swore, a playful glint in his eye.

“Of course, Jax, I’ll be looking forward to it, but can we dance now.”

Ajax just laughed softly, shaking his head, but obliging. Kissing you before pulling you towards all your friends.

fin.

#ajax petropolus x reader #ajax petropolus x fem!reader #ajax petropolus x girlfriend!reader #ajax petropolus x siren!reader #siren!reader #wednesday #bianca barclay #xavier thorpe

2K notes · View notes

somejazzinthemorning · 8 months

Text

tightrope. 11

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x Original Female Character Warning: Mature content Word Count: ~18K

It takes a lot to understand the truth when it is covered under years of hearing the same words. The word exploded around me, in screams and chants, confetti and champagne, but it all felt dull because when the phone rang the following morning, it was not “Papà” that was written on the screen.

It was not the day before, either. Or the days that followed.

Monday morning. 10 hours past the race, and Dad had not called.

Rio called right after the podium. The words tumbled from my lips, breathless and infused with the rush of adrenaline when I picked up the phone from Rocco’s hands and accepted the call. Racing down the pitlane, phone pressed to my face, I could feel the dampness of champagne against my skin and Rio’s voice erupting from the other end of the line, from the other side of the world.

“Eva! What the hell?!”

I was shaking—every cell in my body reverberating with the thrill of what we’d just accomplished. Time seemed slowed down, every detail around me sharper, more vibrant. My skin was covered in goosebumps, a mix of elation and disbelief coursing through me. My lips tasted of champagne, the sweet fizz lingering on my tongue. As my eyes flickered around the pitlane, taking in the sight of the small crowd of mechanics waiting for us at the end of the pitlane, the flags waving on the stands and the vibrant colours of team gear in the pitlane, a loud chuckle left my trembling lips, my fingers grip stronger on the trophy.

Reality seemed distorted, stretched over whatever material dreams were made of.

“A podium finish, Rio! A fucking podium finish!” My words blended in the cacophony of the team’s cheers, a symphony that echoed through the pitlane, now replacing the sound of the engines that had filled the air for the past six hours.

Ahead, Alexei, Alessandro Bianchi for more official affairs, set the pace. His legs were so long and quick it seemed like he was almost running. He was the one driving the car during the final laps. As for Henrik and me, we spent those last laps in the garage, our attention fixated on the car and the unfolding Corvette narrative. Shifting from that nail-biting tension to becoming drenched in a cascade of champagne, it was the blink of an eye.

Henrik's arm found its way around my neck, playfully pulling me into him. His tall frame towered above mine. “Time to drop the phone, DiMaggio. Let’s join the fiesta!”

“It’s my brother. Give me a minute.” I looked up, meeting his frowning face. “Promise you. Just a minute.”

Henrik was Finnish, had hair as fair as sunlight and eyes as blue as the ocean. He just nodded, and then I freed myself from his pull, walking to the side, finding support in the pit wall.

“I knew you could do it, ‘Vita. Sooner or later!” I pressed the phone against my ear, attempting to amplify my brother’s voice. “Get your head right, and everything else will fall into place. Look at what you just did.”

“I drove for less than 2 hours—”

“And you put the car exactly where it needed to be.” There was a genuine awe in my brother’s voice, something that I wasn’t quite used to listening to. Dad wouldn’t react this way. As a matter of fact, he didn’t react at all. “Those overtakes! That place must be going wild for you right now.”

I laughed, looking ahead. Alexei was climbing a mechanic’s back, his 36 years of age eclipsing as his face went full of joy and he looked like a child.

“Yeah. It’s… pretty insane.”

“The race ended less than half an hour ago and we’re already hearing your name all over the hotel. And we’re just having breakfast. You have no idea.” I’ve never heard Rio speak so fast in my life. A clatter resonated from Rio's end as if he was dragging a chair, and then his voice returned. “By the way, your timing is impeccable.”

“Why? What happened?”

My brother chuckled. “You managed to steal Carlos’ thunder on race day.”

“Shit, he’s starting on pole, right? Wish him luck for me.”

"No need to.” Oh. I was not ready to hear him. "I'm right here." A blend of excitement and wistfulness churned in my chest, a familiar pang of longing to be in two places at once. He wasn’t right there. Not anywhere close. “Man—Eva��” His voice rang again, I pictured the smile on his lips, as my name resonated. “You’re absolutely incredible.”

I leaned against the pitlane wall. Champagne dripped from my hair onto my face, the lingering taste a testament to the euphoria of the moment. I glanced upward, the raucous celebration of the team unfolding before me, champagne bottles raised high, exuberant cheers filling the air. Then, I looked down, at my wet fingers wrapped around the trophy,

“I wish you were here,” I murmured, my voice a soft whisper carried away by the wind. “Both of you.”

“DiMaggio!! Leave the phone!” Alexei called for me. In large, determined strides, he made his way toward me, holding a champagne bottle in his hand.

"I'll make sure to save some of this energy for when we reunite," I mused, my voice tinged with a mix of anticipation and longing.

“Hang up!” Alexei screamed, a playful edge to his tone as he quickened his pace. Henrik was behind him, holding another bottle. Their trophies had been left in the garage, on top of the car.

“Hope it won’t take long.” Carlos's voice, filled with warmth and affection, was the last thing I heard before the joyful chaos consumed me again, drenched in champagne and carried on my two teammates’ shoulders, back to the small crowd.

But then Monday came. With a throbbing headache and a dehydrated body, after a too-over-the-top evening packed with celebrations. My phone rang on the nightstand, and after picking it up, Nicola and Lin's faces filled the screen.

“You’ve got toothpaste on your cheek,” Lin pointed out, her surroundings showing the sturdy brick of her New York flat. She was back home, I didn’t know that. Somehow, I still thought she would be in Europe. “And congratulations on the race, by the way!”

Nicola sat in a dimly lit room, a soft white glow illuminating her face—by background noise that filled the air, I associated that the white glow was probably the glow of her TV. “I hate this time zone thing. Can’t stay long, sorry, hubby’s waiting for me in bed. What are you up to today?”

I glanced at the corner of the phone, noting the time. It was a bit before 7 a.m. It was probably around midnight for Nicola. As for Lin, it was a little past 7 p.m. I wiped away the toothpaste from my cheek and sat back on the bed, too tired to move.

“I have an interview today. At the track. In like, two hours. They’re doing tire testing, and James Anderson thought it would be a nice background for the interview.”

“James Anderson? The James Anderson?” Lin's enthusiasm was palpable as she turned in her chair, getting up from it seconds later and walking to another point in the room. The unsteady movement of the camera made my stomach churn. “Girl!”

Nicola laughed softly. “Eva, on a scale of 1 to 10, how freaked out are you?”

“A big ass 11.”

“You've got this in the bag,” Lin's voice chirped through the phone, her enthusiasm cutting through the fog of fatigue that lingered in my mind. “Unless you’re still a bit drunk from last night.”

“Just a tiny bit,” I admitted, flopping back onto the bed. The sudden motion made me feel queasy. “Yeah. Fuck. Not exactly drunk, but way too hungover for this. I don’t even know why I said yes to the interview. There’s literally nothing to talk about.”

“He did an amazing piece on the race. Well, an amazing piece on you,” Nicola chimed in. “I’ll post it tomorrow on the team’s socials.”

“That’s why Rocco convinced me to say yes.” I rolled over in bed, seeking a hint of comfort from the pillow and the soft comforter. “Why? I don’t know.”

“Get out of bed, or you'll fall asleep,” Nicola urged. “Also, get out of bed so I can go to bed.”

“You can go. I'll keep her company and help with what she should say.”

“She knows it better than you do,” Nicola was right. I was usually the one media training my clients, providing them with a bullet point list of acceptable topics and answers. So, technically, I should be able to do it for myself. But exhaustion from the weekend's efforts, compounded by a hangover, left me feeling drained. “Don’t you?”

“I do. But I’m just tired. I really, really don’t want to do this right now. I have a belly ache.”

“Eva, come on.” Lin moved again, her energy almost overwhelming enough to make me feel nauseated. “If you get nervous, just imagine the man in his underwear. They say it helps.”

I burst into laughter, the absurd mental image of James Anderson in his underwear momentarily banishing the exhaustion that had weighed on me. “Who says?”

Nicola threw her head back, laughing in response.

Lin grunted. “Them. People.”

"Thanks for that mental image, babe. I'll keep it in my back pocket."

As the laughter subsided, my eyes caught the corner of the screen. Time was passing. The interview was getting closer, and the reality of facing the camera was beginning to set in. Lin's expression turned earnest. "Seriously, Eva, you've got this. Stop overthinking. Just be yourself and ride this wave of success. You're on top of the world."

“That’s what scares me.”

And just like that, a frown appeared on both of their faces. Nicola's frown was more pronounced due to the glow of the TV in the background. Then, she clicked her tongue. “Ah, that’s why you wanted us to call.”

“Exactly.”

“And here I thought you were just missing us,” Lin teased. “Seriously, babe. You’ve got this.”

“Tell us what’s wrong.”

"It's just that sometimes…. I don’t feel like I deserve this? Like it should be harder than it is. Yeah, I can race. And yeah, I'm good at it. Pretty good. But the pressure? The questions? The idea that people are looking at me and expecting me to fail… I've been sick to my stomach just wondering what's happening next because that's what all those goddamn reporters kept asking me yesterday. And—I don’t know. I feel like my Dad is right. I'm not fit for this. ”

“What did that jerk say to you, again?”

“Lin, he’s her dad.”

“Yeah, and he was, is, whatever, my boss. Screw him, honestly. Eva, listen.” She paused and slid one of her lock braids to be back of her ear. “I hope you know he’s a loser, and everything he does and says is just a reflection of how much of a loser he is. He needs to control your life in a way he never got to control his—”

“Lin—”

“No, I don’t care. Listen.” She paused. Nicola took a deep breath, and I followed suit. “He’s your dad, I know. But I’ve been there and I’ve heard the stuff he says. I know him. I worked with Rio when we were both fresh out of college, and I've seen the way he treats both of you.” Again, I attempted to stop her, but she raised one finger. “And I've had enough. The fact that he’s your father isn’t a reason for him to be as mean as he is when things don’t go according to his plans. I've seen him blame Rio, in front of the whole team, for a storm on a test day because he should have known—”

“A test day. Yes, well, those are usually…”

“I don’t care. He’s your dad. He parades you around the way he thinks is best. What did he say this time?” Lin had a way of cutting through the noise and getting straight to the heart of the matter.

“A lot of stuff about how this sport isn’t for me and how he can’t understand my change of mentality in the last few weeks… How I fit better in an office. Just—a lot.”

“Of course he can’t. He never understood you at all. He’s not a good man, love.” She paused. “And I’m sorry.”

“But he’s my dad.”

“He is,” Nicola hummed. “But that doesn’t mean you owe him anything. You’re your own person.”

“Actually, I owe him my entire career.”

“Just because he has the money. And—Think: he never did one single thing for you that would risk his money. For heaven's sake, he made you race in The Challenge after you spent a year at home, struggling with anxiety and depression and he didn’t care if you were ready or not. The only thing he knew was that he was going to lose money if he didn’t get a driver in that seat. Rio was completely done with racing and there was no one available to take the remaining spot.”

“But I wanted to race.”

“I know you did.” Lin’s voice softened. “But like that, hun? From FRECA to The Challenge? We hoped you'd advance to at least any other regional series. Or that he would push for F3, he did it for Rio and, let’s face it, he’s not half as good as you.” I took a moment to absorb her words. They were raw, unfiltered truths that I had been avoiding. “It felt like you were back to square one. Doesn’t surprise me that you kept yourself busy with that college friend. Amanda, right?”

“Yes. And I still am. Keeps me busy. I can't have too much downtime, or else I go crazy.”

“Exactly. So…” Nicola interjected. “That’s not how it should be. You need breaks. You need downtime. You need to rest. You just had a break, and you had the time and the peace of mind to find your groove again.”

“I was in good company. In a nice place. And was busy with that said company.”

“See? So the issue is your Dad. It’s been what? Two weeks since you came back from Mallorca, and you just got a freaking podium, and now you’re struggling again because your Dad said things that made you overthink everything. You were so happy during the weekend, what happened?”

“He didn’t call. I thought I had proved him wrong and he didn’t even bother to call. And he’s my dad, you know? And now James Anderson is going to ask me stuff about the future my dad is holding in his hands. And I don’t want to answer.”

“Okay, let’s…” Nicola took a deep breath, her hand reaching for her hair and pulling it back. I sat up in bed, realizing it was time to gather myself. “You are holding that said future. Get the fuck out of bed, put on some makeup, and head to the track. Do the interview. It will go well. Don’t overthink the answers. It’s PR and you’re great at that. So just—think you’re one of your clients. And if your mind starts spiralling, Rocco is right there; I know he can keep you occupied if needed.”

Lin burst into laughter. “Oh, he can definitely keep her occupied.”

“Gross. He’s technically an employee.” I retorted. “And I bet he’s taken.”

“I’m sure Pulcini will be around, too,” Lin added, and I finally got out of bed, leaving my phone on the credenza, capturing me as I moved around the room and picked up my sneakers. “Or have we moved on from him?”

“We’re not focused on that because I’m working!”

“Can I finally go to bed? I want to get occupied, too.”

“No one here is getting ‘occupied,’” I remarked, slipping on my sneakers. “But yes, go to bed. I’ll do my makeup and head out.”

“It will go well, baby,” Lin said. “And if it gets weird, well, remember the underwear thing.”

The pit lane buzzed with activity, a hubbub of conversations and the clatter of rattle guns. Standing amidst it all, I found myself at the center of attention. The warmth of the sun kissed my skin, while in the distance, I could hear the sounds of the paddock being packed into trucks.

Before me stood James Anderson, his lanyard hanging casually over his chest, almost masking the fact that he wasn’t just another journalist, but the renowned James Anderson himself. Two chairs were positioned at the heart of the pit lane, a camera strategically placed near the pit wall, and a bustling garage composed the backdrop. Alexei and Henrik occupied the seats on the pit wall, their legs dangling, dressed in relaxed t-shirts and jeans. Matteo was in his race suit, totally recovered from the food poisoning episode, and ready to take on the test day.

The car would leave the garage in 20 minutes, so we had exactly that time. Not one minute more.

Despite the camera, Anderson held a notepad in his hand. His salt-and-pepper hair danced with the wind, uncovering his eyes, and sparking with curiosity. I noticed the subtle lines around them, testimony to the countless years spent witnessing greatness on track.

“Happy we can do this, Eva. I've been trying since your victory at Imola. Exceptional performance at the Challenge, too, by the way.”

I wasn’t aware of this desire to interview me earlier. As a matter of fact, I wasn’t aware he was even aware of my existence until he met me in the garage, after the podium ceremony.

"Well… now, we have more to talk about," I remarked, my smile flowing naturally. Anderson nodded, directing his gaze toward the cameraman, a signal to commence recording. "Be gentle with me," I quipped, playfully brushing aside my anxiety.

His laughter rang out. "No need to worry."

Casting a final glance at Alexei and Henrik, the latter waving at me just before Anderson shifted in his seat, reclaiming my attention, I took a final deep breath. This wasn't within my training regimen. I was nervous. My belly aching.

“Eva, let me start by congratulating you on your remarkable performance this weekend. You stepped in for your teammate Matteo Serra during the practice session. Could you walk us through how you adapted to the situation so quickly and what mindset you had going into the race?”

I nodded. My hands were on my thighs, fingers almost melting with the fabric of my jeans. Jesus. This was hard. On top of that, I could feel Alexei’s coal eyes on me, the intensity of his gaze travelling above Anderson’s shoulder, boring into me.

“Yeah, well. First of all, thank you,” I began, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips. The sunlight played across my face, warming my skin as I spoke. The journalist's expression seemed to relax, his posture slowly becoming more open. “Ahm—right, honestly, it was a whirlwind. Stepping into Matteo’s shoes so unexpectedly meant a quick mental switch. But that's what we’re trained for and what the team expects from me. I had to quickly familiarize myself with the track and the car's nuances… So, the team support was crucial, really. Alexei and Henrik were amazing the whole weekend,” I glanced towards my teammates, looking at each other, smiling. “We worked together to ensure a seamless transition, and I'm truly grateful for their trust.”

The slight tremor in my fingers betrayed the composed façade I was trying to showcase. I could feel the weight of the race weekend on my shoulders.

“Your performance during the race, particularly your amazing overtakes, drew the attention of many in the paddock.” The reporter went again. “Can you share the strategy and approach you took to navigate through the field and secure that impressive fourth-place finish?”

“Well, thank you again.” I chuckled softly, the sound carrying a mixture of humility and genuine pleasure. “I’m not used to this, I’ll admit.”

“Just being honest.”

“Okay—well… the strategy was a mix of precision and calculated risk. The adrenaline was pumping, and I was fully immersed in the race… And when the command to push came, and I realised the team trusted me, I just went for it. My general approach was to find those windows of opportunity without compromising the overall strategy… I mean, we had more pace than we expected and we had to make something out of it. We didn’t qualify great, what was a boomer, because we had faith we could qualify in the top 10. So, that not being the case, we had to be at 110%. The team did amazing with the pitstops, and the guys did amazing stints as well… And.. Since I was feeling comfortable with the car—thankfully I drive a similar car in another series, so it became a bit easier… I had to go for it. So, yeah—It's quite surreal to think about it now, but… I'm still in awe of how everything came together.”

My gaze drifted to the marks of tire rubber still visible on the asphalt. I could almost feel the energy of the cars rushing through the main straight, my feet vibrating with the phantom energy still running around us.

“You mentioned the team’s trust… DAR Racing's decision to extend your stint turned out to be a wise move since we could clearly see that you were getting gradually more confident in the car and risking more. At your level, with so little experience, how did you manage to maintain your focus and energy during that crucial period of the race? Did doubt quick in or…?”

This time, I couldn’t find comfort in the details on the pitlane. Anderson’s eyes didn’t leave mine. Curiosity glistened through his dark eyes, his passion and interest so clear. Probably he had noticed my state on the radio. The thousand questions I asked, how I pressed from lap times and places of improvement. I was freaking out inside the car. Properly. I wanted to go fast. Faster. I wanted to come out of every corner perfectly.

“Interesting point… Yeah—So…” I took a moment, my hands subtly trembling from a mix of lingering adrenaline and fatigue. My eyes flickered toward the reporter, his expression a mix of interest and empathy. “Maintaining focus and energy during the stint was undoubtedly challenging.” Pause. A small breath. “As the laps went by, I did feel a surge of confidence building within me but the team's strategy and encouragement played a huge role in keeping me on track, both mentally and physically.” I chuckled softly, a glint of self-awareness in my eyes, realizing the play of words. “But yeah—doubt is a natural human response in such a demanding situation. I’d never done anything similar. Or even raced for this much time. What was it? A bit more than an hour and a half?” Pause. He nodded. “Yeah. So. There’s a lot involved and a big part is the mental game. I'm grateful I had the right support system to keep me motivated through the race.”

Alexei's presence stretched through the pitlane, his supportive gaze feeling like a reassuring anchor. Henrik, with his elbow perched on Alexei’s shoulder, sent me a nod of approval. They were witnesses to the doubt, to the lack of sleep on Thursday night when I was notified that Matteo was on his way to the hospital, after throwing up for almost one hour straight and my body and mind couldn’t seem to handle the fact I would be driving that weekend.

They were patient. They made it possible.

I couldn’t help but smile.

Anderson, probably noticing the silent exchange, looked over his shoulder. Turning to me, another question hung on his lips. “You seem really in sync with the team. And all throughout the weekend, I've noticed that many drivers and personnel from rival teams came over to congratulate you, especially yesterday, during the celebrations. Could you speak about the role of… camaraderie and sportsmanship in your approach to motorsports?”

“Absolutely,” I affirmed with a genuine smile. “Those values are essential aspects of motorsports for me. Racing is not just about individual performance—it's being part of a larger community. Every driver—rather, every person on the paddock shares a common passion, and that creates a unique bond. I believe that mutual respect and support make the racing experience richer and more fulfilling. When rivals come over to offer their congratulations, it shows that we're all part of a shared journey. And that helps put things in perspective.” I paused, my gaze returning to the journalist's attentive expression. “I grew up with a lot of good examples of great sportsmen, from different ages and backgrounds. They inspire me to be the athlete I am. And I learn from them. I know and I’ve seen that being in sync with my team and everyone around me is paramount. And about the team… we're like a well-oiled machine, working together to achieve a common goal. The team’s trust in me and my trust in them is the key to achieving an environment where we can perform at our best.”

“What happens now?” Anderson leaned back on his chair, crossing his right leg over the other. “What are the plans for the future? Do you think this race opened a couple more doors your way?”

It’s PR, I remembered myself.

“Right now, I'm still taking in the incredible experience of this race and savouring the team's success,” I began, my voice carrying a blend of satisfaction and excitement. “Looking ahead, the future holds exciting possibilities, that’s for sure. But we still have a few races this year, so we'll continue to analyze our performance, identify areas for improvement, and build on the momentum we've gained. And as for my personal journey… I believe this race has indeed opened a couple more doors for me. It's a validation of the hard work and dedication I've poured into my career. It’s not been easy, and the road has been long and hard, so it’s positive to see how it’s unfolding. I'm truly ready to embrace whatever challenges and opportunities come my way. Whether it's stepping up to compete more regularly, collaborating with other teams, or pursuing new ventures—I can say I'm determined to make the most of the doors that may or may not open and strive for even greater achievements in the future. Whatever they are.”

“I remember seeing you in FRECA, and it was a shame you didn't have a chance to end your amazing 2019 campaign.” My teeth sunk into my bottom lip. I was not expecting to go so deep into the past. “Did the unexpected end to the season, with you not taking part in the last races of the season, have anything to do with the break you took in 2020 and the new route you took last year?”

“Yes, well—” I moved in my chair. “The end of the 2019 season didn't go as planned, and it did play a role in the decisions I made afterwards. However, the break I took in 2020 was primarily a result of some personal issues and the need to focus on my overall well-being. With the pandemic, that forced me to slow down, I realized that I needed to take a step back, regroup, and come back stronger.”

As I spoke, the memories of that challenging period flickered in my mind—the uncertainties, the doubts, and the eventual realization that prioritizing my mental and emotional health was essential. 2019 was supposed to be my big year, the breakout. Yet, it was an utter nightmare. Losing a seat over team politics and small-minded men, especially when I was a championship contender, felt worse than anything I’ve ever experienced.

“Can you elaborate a bit more on those personal issues?” Anderson tilted his head.

“I understand the curiosity, but I'd prefer to keep the specifics to myself.” Once again, the reported nodded.

"It's known you took a different route and you've not been driving full-time since then. Do you see racing as a hobby? It’s a very expensive one to have.” He chuckled. I moved in my seat.

Well, you would never say that to a man, I thought to myself.

“It’s certainly far more than a hobby for me. While it's true that my journey has taken a unique path in recent years, it's important to note that every step I've taken has been with a specific purpose.” I paused, not sure if I was truly conveying the message I aimed for.

2020 had been tough. Mom and Dad quarantining in Verona, with my grandparents. Rio focused on his heavily pregnant wife and, later, their newborn twins. Carlos was… doing his thing. And I was at home, being consumed by a monster that fed on my own sadness and self-doubt. I didn’t want to project that image. The world couldn’t know that person.

“As you know, the commitment, dedication, and effort required in motorsports are immense and it's not a pursuit I take lightly.” I continued. “As with any other driver, there are challenges outside racing. Some can handle them better than others. I felt the need to stop for a while and take it easy on myself. That doesn’t make me less of a driver.”

“Is this hybrid mode, if I can call it that, helping with those issues?”

“It helped, until now. A lot of other drivers have a business on the side, that’s just a small percentage of what I do. Did.” I corrected myself. “I intend to be 100% focused on racing next year.”

“What made you take that decision?”

“The timing feels right, both personally and professionally.”

“You’re on a high, that’s for sure,” Anderson said, his hand meddling with his pen. “Considering those challenges you've mentioned, how do you feel your experiences outside the track have influenced your approach to racing now?”

"A lot has been happening these last two years. To be honest, I’m still in the process of looking back, reflecting on my journey and reevaluating my goals. Especially these last weeks… I’ve reencountered some people from the past and it helped me to look behind… It helped me gain a deeper understanding of myself, my strengths, and the areas I wanted to work on. As a result, I'm feeling more like myself. Every good or bad thing that happens is a part of us. And it’s not a setback, it’s just a… detour. A part of the comeback, too.” Anderson smiled at my worlds, I smiled too. “This weekend showed me exactly that—that I’m still the girl I was a few years ago. All the setbacks I’ve found… All my experiences, really, have taught me the importance of balance, resilience, and essentially mental well-being, which I believe are essential not only for success on the track but also for overall fulfilment.”

“And as for the future? Could you tell us a bit more about the specific goals you're aiming to achieve with DAR Racing and in your motorsport career moving forward?”

“And as to the future…” I paused. “My focus is on continuous improvement and pushing my limits. And working on myself. I'm fortunate to be part of a team that believes in my potential and supports my growth. Right now, my goal is to contribute to the team's success, while also aiming to achieve personal milestones, of course. It’s all very in the open, to be honest. As I said, I'm dedicated to making the most of every opportunity and showcasing my abilities. Ultimately? I aspire to compete at the highest level, as any other athlete."

"Highest level?” His eyebrow pointed up. “What do you exactly mean?”

"Competing against the best. Motorsport offers various tiers of competition, and my ultimate goal is to eventually reach the pinnacle of motorsport, whether it's in Formula 1, endurance racing, or any other top-tier championship.” Anderson seemed surprised. I cracked a laugh and he followed. “Doesn’t hurt to dream, does it? I’m aware this journey requires consistent dedication, hard work, and especially the right opportunities. I’m just leaving it in the open." I shrugged.

"So, the single-seaters aren’t out of the question?"

"Absolutely not! Formula 1 remains a dream—more than that, a goal. While my current focus is on endurance racing, I wouldn't rule out the possibility of pursuing a career in single-seaters if the right opportunity arises.”

“That’s bold.”

“Can’t settle for less.”

Anderson laughed and extended his hand in my direction. “That’s the spirit.”

Amanda rented a small Airbnb in Berlin, paid for the company, of course, and located less than 5 minutes away from her client’s new store. The floor of the entrance hall was all boxes and shopping bags, greeting me as I arrived. On the corner, there was a small space for my shoes, the only free space, actually, which meant that I had to grab my suitcase and hover it over the boxes, to make my way to my room.

She had texted me just as I landed, telling me she would be at the store all morning and that I could use some time to sleep and rest and join her at the store in the afternoon. And despite being massively jet-lagged, I couldn’t phantom the idea of going to bed at noon. My body was completely disoriented after a twenty-hour flight that had departed from Japan on Monday night and landed in Berlin on Tuesday morning.

The concept of time didn’t make sense at all.

During the flight, I immersed myself in a sea of and stories about myself. The spotlight was glaring down on me, the expectations and anticipation weighing down my shoulders. “WHAT COMES NEXT?” plastered across every other tweet or headline. And, of course, I asked myself the same question.

Little did I realize that my little pastime was nurturing the little monster hidden in a corner of my mind, that I so desperately tried to ignore by eating cookies and Doritos and drinking whatever beverage they had available on the flight.

I’d said more than I should in the interview with Anderson, I realized.

In every other tweet, my name was linked to Carlos, to his dad and to a potential seat in F3 that I knew nothing about. On every social media post, a lot more comments than usual, especially after Marjorie’s Mallorca dump, where I was pictured with Carlos behind me, on the boat, his hand over my shoulder—what quickly became “proof” to our connection.

Too much happening in such little time.

And time didn’t make sense.

And my body ached.

And Even Amanda, whom I thought would be focused at work, was swept up in the buzz of the moment. There was a bottle of Ferrari champagne on the dinning table. “We will open it at dinner”, a small note said.

I couldn’t make tea because I couldn’t find the teapot, and heating up water in the microwave was just too low. I was tired. I needed coffee or tea, or just anything with a strong flavour and enough caffeine, and then I remembered there was a small coffee shop downstairs.

But I was just so tired, and so in need of a break, that my feet took me to the empty room at the end of the hallway and I collapsed in bed. Not to sleep. But just to take a break. To exist and listen to the silence, and to life happening outside, in some random street of Berlin.

The grip of jet lag tightened as Berlin’s heat added to my discomfort.

I rolled in bed.

And then I remembered that for the first time in more than a week, Carlos and I were in the same time zone. And life seemed a bit better. I stretched my hand to the phone. There was a message from him hanging in my inbox. “Call me when you land.”

“Oh, you were quick to pick up,” I said, my voice laced with traces of tiredness.

He chuckled on the other side of the line. “Yeah, it seems I can’t go too long without hearing from you. Is the flat nice?”

“It's cozy. Going to be an interesting experience sharing the place with Amanda for a few days. I had to perform some serious parkour moves just to get through the entrance because the hallway is packed with boxes. She’s not exactly the tidiest person.”

Carlos laughed softly. “As if you could talk.”

I playfully sighed. “I’m sorry, Mr. Virgo, if I don’t live up to your standards.”

He chuckled again, the sound soothing and familiar. "Well, just make sure you don't trip over any of those boxes. I need you whole when you get back."

"I'll do my best," I replied, a grin sneaking onto my face despite the fatigue that still clung to me. "How's your day been so far?"

We fell into an easy conversation, talking about everything and nothing at the same time. His words were like a balm, easing away the remnants of jet lag and anxiety and replacing them with a sense of connection that stretched across the miles. He was still in Italy, getting ready to fly for Zandvoort. It would be a packed week, apparently. Starting on Wednesday, all the way to Sunday. And then repeat all of that for Monza, the next week. At a certain point, he started complaining about Rio and his insistence on taking Team 55 to dinner to celebrate Carlos’ birthday, and then spending midnight together, have a drink and toast to another year.

I would be at said dinner, but that surprise was something Carlos didn't need to know just yet.

Between stories of Amsterdam and Zandvoort and how Spa had gone for him, we finally reached the topic. Japan. The podium.

“About that,” Carlos's voice echoed warmly through the phone's speaker. I settled deeper into the comfy pillows, his words soothing away the fatigue that had clung to me since landing. "You won't believe it, but he couldn’t shut up about you. I've never seen Rio so damn proud as he was on Sunday," he confessed.

I couldn't help but chuckle at the thought. "That's a first," I replied, my voice laced with amusement. "I think he'd sooner admit to believing in unicorns than admit to praising me.”

Carlos chuckled softly, and I could almost picture the affectionate smile on his face. “I barely saw him at the garage. He was around… networking, as he put it. Even took some notes from Caco.”

“He better take lessons from the master. Guess I'll have to rely on him since I don't have Dad to do it for me anymore.” Carlos cleared his throat, and it sounded like a gentle reprimand. “What was that for?”

“You would do it even if you were alone.”

“I don’t have the people skills for that.”

“You do,” he quickly interjected. His words hung in the air, and I scrunched my nose, the silence between us perhaps conveying more than words ever could. “Are you having doubts?”

I pondered for a moment, my body shifting in bed as if searching for a more comfortable posture to handle the subject. “Hm. It’s too late for that,” I began. “I mean, it's all done now, you know? I've adjudicated all my clients to other colleagues. My agenda is clean. I've sent my resignation letter. I’m just tying up some loose ends now.”

“That’s good,” Carlos said, and then a heavy silence enveloped us once more. It felt like a looming shadow, draping itself over me, heavy and dark. “Isn’t it?”

“It is. It just…” I hesitated, searching for the right words.

“Yes?”

“I’m… apprehensive.”

“Okay…” I heard him take a deep breath, and I closed my eyes, yearning for his comforting presence. “Why? What’s going on inside?”

A warmth spread through me, knowing that he cared enough to ask these questions. “Do we really need to have this talk?”

“Yes.” His response was firm, yet there was an undeniable gentleness in his voice. I felt a rush of emotions, a mixture of vulnerability and relief. God. How much I needed him right there at that moment. “I don’t want you to carry the weight of this change alone.”

Something shifted inside me, a sense of support that I hadn’t fully acknowledged before. I let out a sigh, feeling a strange weight lifting off my shoulders. The liberty to be human, and act like myself. To have fears, and doubts and to have the liberty to be vulnerable and share them.

“It’s been a lot, you know?” My voice cracked as my throat seemed to become small. I paused for a second, just to hear him hum on the other side, encouraging me to continue. “I can’t visualize it. I can’t see myself there, because I don’t feel like there is. I feel lost. And tired. People expect me to know what I want. To know the way. To be fierce and decisive, but I'm not that person. At least not now. I'm seeing her again, but I'm still... lost. I have this… thing. An anxiety that lives here, that I can’t put on hold.”

“Eva—”

“No, let me finish. I have more than enough reasons to know I’m kind of good, to know I’m good. But there’s something screaming that I’m not great. That I’m not enough. That I should have never stopped, that I should have started racing sooner… I mean, take my interview with Andeson.” I paused. “I said too much, people are talking and going deeper into my life, and stalking my socials and making theories about everything. I have people liking photos from 2015, for heaven's sake. And I’m refusing to go on Twitter because I don’t want to read what they’re saying.”

Carlos chuckled, his voice soothing. “That's how it goes, love. It shouldn't be that way, but it's unfortunately part of the package. Remember that’s not what matters.”

“What happens on the track is what matters,” I asserted.

“Exactly,” Carlos took a deep breath before continuing. "I know you like being in your bubble, Eva. I do too. But unfortunately, I'll have to share you with the world if we want a chance to keep your name in their mouths. And we need that chance because you deserve a great seat for next year."

I sighed, understanding the weight of his words. "Share me, huh?"

He let out a playful sigh. "Let me be a bit selfish here. I just got you back, and now I'll have to share you with the world? Unfair."

"Is it really that hard to bear?"

Carlos replied in a teasing tone, "You have no idea. Sharing you with the world? Torture."

I chuckled, his playful tone bringing a sense of lightness to our conversation. "Well, I'll try to make it as painless as possible for you. Besides, you'll always have a special VIP pass to my bubble."

He chuckled, his voice warm and affectionate. "I'll hold you to that. Now…” he hesitated. "I have to leave in… 20-ish minutes. Nap time for you?"

I sighed dramatically. "Yeah, I guess I can squeeze in a bit of sleep."

"Good,” He paused. “You need rest"

"And you're not mad about me missing the GP?"

There was a short pause before he answered, his voice sincere. "I won't lie and say I'm thrilled, but I understand. Work's work, love. And I’ll have you in Monza. We'll have our celebration whenever is possible."

I smiled, warmth flooding through me. "Thank you for understanding, even when I'm disappointing your birthday plans."

He chuckled. "It’s okay, bebé. I'll survive the birthday blues. Just promise me you'll take care of yourself. And get enough rest."

"I promise," I said softly, gratitude filling my voice.

“I’ll call you tonight.”

“Counting on it.”

I nestled back into the pillows, my mind finally quieting down as I let sleep claim me once more. Our conversation replayed in my thoughts, a reminder that no matter the miles between us or the challenges we faced, our bond remained.

“Carlos’ birthday is tomorrow,” I said. On the other side of the line, Marjorie's affirming hum tickled my ear. “What do you give a man that has everything?”

Marjorie's voice crackled through, a touch raspy and warm. “Really good head.”

I haltered, trying to muffle a chuckle and glanced discreetly at the man on the opposite side of the counter. I couldn't help but wonder if he overheard her audacious suggestion; it was practically impossible, but his stern expression made me second-guess.

“Let’s keep it a little more PG, shall we?” I whispered, my words barely escaping my lips. “I was thinking more along the lines of a watch. You know, like a normal person.”

She giggled, unapologetic. “Yeah, your denial game is strong.”

“You wouldn’t buy it even if I tried.” I think I sounded more annoyed than I expected, and Marjorie’s quick reply and tone did indeed confirm it.

“True. So, why deny it anyway?”

I shifted my gaze to the abstract painting on the wall, and then to the display filled with bracelets and watches. The light refracted on the screens, glistening and tempting me to pick one of them up. I approached one of the displays. One of the Rolex watches seemed to smile at me.

“It’s complicated,” I murmured.

“That’s your favourite word.” She paused, the silence a bit dull, but I wasn’t sure of what to say. “But you don’t need to say a thing, you know? It’s pretty darn obvious what’s going on between you two. Seriously, even standing five meters away, it’s nauseating.”

“Marge, don’t—”

“Eva, I get it. You want to take things slow, bla bla bla, I know your speech, already. It’s the same for every boy. Nut come on! It’s Carlos! I know you always liked him. And even if he was a stranger… I mean he’s still Carlos Sainz.” She sighed.

“You won’t shut up, will you?”

“Never.” She paused for a second, and when I thought I could speak, she started again. "We all were in Mallorca, and I've seen enough walks of shame to spot one. And it was almost suffocating near you during Blanca’s dinner. The tension was absurd.”

“What do you want me to say?”

“I don’t know. At least stop being weird about it.”

“I’m not weird about anything. I called you just want your help to choose a gift for his birthday and you didn’t even let me talk yet. Are you and Rio giving him something?”

“Yes. Your brother is giving him something, not sure what, honestly.”

“You’re really trusting him with that?”

“It’s his best friend. If he fucks up, it's his responsibility.” She quipped and then cracked a laugh. I chuckled silently, my eyes drifting through the small collection.

“Going back to my gift…” I brought the conversation back on track.

“Yes…”

“I left the store to go pick up some food for lunch and I found a cute little shop on the way,” I started. It was much more than "cute"—it was truly a hidden gem in the heart of Berlin. “I was thinking of something vintage, you know? A watch… with a leather bracelet, maybe. And I don’t have much time to waste because I’m leaving today to Zandvoort and I can’t get there with anything.”

“He has a collection of watches, Eva.”

“He has literally a collection of everything,” I sighed. “Hence the challenge. I want to stand out.”

“Well, I told you one way to stand out.”

"I'm trying to be a little more sophisticated here," I retorted.

"Oh, do you need suggestions for a no-smudge red lipstick?" Marjorie countered, her suggestion dripping with mischievous wit. “I can help with that.”

“Fuck off.”

“Babe, you showing up there will be nicer than any watch.”

I hummed, my feet tracing the store floors, walking the steps I’d already walked twice or thrice that evening. before calling Marjorie, I’d spent ten minutes in there, staring at the watches, and despite loving the atmosphere and the feeling of all my senses being captivated by the allure of history, I was in need of going back outside and getting some food.

Every piece was a good pick.

Each one with a story of its own, sparkling under the soft glow of the display lights, their gears whispering secrets of forgotten eras, waiting to be unveiled by its new owner.

I picked up a beautiful antique Rolex with a leather strap, the rich aroma of aged leather mingling with the fragrance of nostalgia that permeated the air. It exuded an air of sophistication, and I could already picture him wearing it under the brim of his race suit.

“I’m sending you a pic on WhatsApp.”

And after I did, Marjorie's voice came through the phone, breaking my reverie. "That one is lovely.”

“But it’s so… normal.” I sighed, feeling torn between the classic elegance of the leather bracelet and the desire to find something truly unique for Carlos.

"It’s a Rolex.” She deadpanned. “I swear to God, it’s been years since I married into this family and I still can’t relate to you all. But yeah, somehow I get what you mean. But it's Carlos. He doesn't care about extravagant."

“But I do.”

“Miss,” the shop owner's voice interrupted our conversation, and I turned to face him with a polite smile. "I'm really sorry to disturb you, but we’re about to close.”

I nodded apologetically at the shop owner, realizing that I had been so engrossed in my conversation with Marjorie that I hadn't noticed the time. "Of course, I'm sorry. I got carried away… Marge,” I talked into the phone. “I’ll call you later, ok?"

"No need to apologize," he said kindly, gesturing towards the watch in my hand. "You seem to have a good eye for these kind of pieces. Is there anything specific you're looking for?"

"Well," I hesitated, glancing back at the watch and the man before it put it down in its place. "I'm trying to find a birthday gift.?"

The old man smiled understandingly, his eyes glistening under his round glasses. "Well,” he looked at his watch. “I can spare a few more minutes to help you, miss. Is it for a friend? A family member?"

"A friend. He travels a lot, he’s a racing driver… So I was thinking of something like a watch or a bracelet, something practical that he can carry around or just… something to have at home…? I mean…” I paused, my eyes wandering through the counter, my iris meeting the shiny screens of the watch under the store lights. “He has tons of watches, and now that I’m thinking about it, he’s not a guy to wear bracelets. It’s… a challenge.”

The old man's face lit up, a raspy smoker's chuckle leaving his wrinkly lips. "Ja, I know how difficult it can be. What does that friend value? What does he like?" The man leaned against the counter, his wrinkly hand holding onto the sturdy wood, while the other one traveled to the pocket of his cardigan.

"Meaning, I think," I replied, my fingers tracing the edge of the polished wooden counter. "He has basically everything already, so it's difficult to find something. Not that he's hard to please. Not at all. I'm just very picky, even when it comes to gifts for other people."

"Meaning," the old man mused, his eyes scanning the shop's interior. "You mentioned he's a driver, right?" I nodded in confirmation. "How about something that combines his love for racing with a touch of nostalgia?"

I furrowed my brows, intrigued by his suggestion. "What do you suggest?"

The old man's eyes gleamed with excitement as he led me toward a large leather album, slightly bigger than A3 paper, resting on a wooden display stand. "I was a big motorsport fan back in the day," he began, his voice carrying the weight of cherished memories. "I even traveled to America to watch some good old NASCAR races. Fortunately, I had the opportunity to meet many drivers and collected a few things people find valuable now."

With his permission, I opened the album to reveal a treasure trove of race posters, each one meticulously preserved and adorned with signatures from drivers and team owners. The pages were filled with a rich tapestry of racing history from various series.

"Oh, are these race posters?" I asked in awe.

The old man nodded proudly. "They are all signed, by drivers and team owners, from a variety of racing series. Perhaps a poster from Le Mans from his birth year? Or... what does he drive? What does he enjoy?"

"Formula 1," I replied. And then I looked up to him. "Maybe a poster from the Spanish Grand Prix of '94, if it's available?"

The old man's eyes sparkled with recognition. "Ah, the Spanish Grand Prix of '94. That was a memorable one. I think it’s in there somewhere."

As I stepped out of the shop, the poster and a frame we picked after were inside a carton box, with a lot of tape around it. It would survive the flight, I hoped. I couldn't help but notice how picturesque Berlin looked that afternoon. The sun cast a warm golden hue on the architecture, turning even the most ordinary scenes into works of art. I adjusted my sunglasses, taking in the sights and sounds of the bustling city. Cobblestone streets wound through neighbourhoods that seemed to have their own stories to tell.

With each step, I felt a little more grounded, the rhythm of my strides syncing with the beat of the city. People passed by, their conversations forming a melodic backdrop. Laughter spilt out from sidewalk cafes, and the aroma of various cuisines filled the air.

Eva: “weird to think that i once thought germans were the prettiest europeans”

Marjorie: “a loooot of layers to debunk there”

Eva: “they were mostly football players and sebastian vettel. not that many layers.”

Marjorie: “vettel? wow, that’s soooo surprising” Marjorie: ”no one would EVER guess your taste in men”

Eva: “yeah? what’s my taste in men then?”

Marjorie: “former red bull athletes that raced/race for ferrari?” Marjorie: ”duh”

Eva: “you’re so annoying”

Marjorie: “did you get the gift?”

Eva: “yes”

Marjorie: “what did you get?”

Eva: “ill show you later”

Marjorie: “ok, now you can stop overthinking and focus on the handsome spaniard waiting for you and the amazing birthday sex he's in for”

Eva: "omg” Eva: "can’t believe you’re a MOM”

Helping Amanda at the store helped me more than I wanted to admit. I liked being busy. I needed to be busy. Spreadsheets and checklists were the perfect escape from the stress accumulating in my mind. I needed that, the sense of being in control. And if I felt like I was not totally controlling my career, still being discussed online, at least I could be in control of numbers and store openings.

"Last project as a team?" Amanda's voice reached me, her back turned as she meticulously arranged fake flowers in a jar. "I finally saw your interview last night. Full dedication to racing, starting next year."

I leaned against an unopened box, half my size, my fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on the cardboard's surface. "Yeah, I've mentioned this to you before.” I took a break, using the seconds to take a breath. “I mean, I gave you like 70% of my clients."

She finally turned around, a plastic sunflower hanging from her fingers. "Yeah. I know. But I gotta admit, I half-expected you to stick around. Keep a client or two... Just in case."

A bead of sweat trickled down my back, my palms slightly sweaty as I wiped them against the cool fabric of my shorts.

"To be honest," I began, my gaze meeting hers. "No, I'm not entirely sure. But I don't think I ever will be. It just feels like something I need to do, you know? Stop doubting and take the leap."

She continued to observe me, her expression thoughtful. "And if it goes wrong?"

"Then I start over, just like I did a few years ago.” I settled onto an ottoman chair, taking a deep breath and picking my bottle of water from the side table. “Difference is: I have my own resources now. I have money. My money. I can travel, I can afford to try. I won't be relying on anyone else, this time."

"At all?" Her question carried a weight that made me frown. "I've seen the news. I've seen Twitter."

I rolled my eyes. "Ah, Twitter."

Her gaze remained steady on mine, unwavering. "So, are you two together or not?"

I sighed, a mixture of frustration and exasperation bubbling up. "Amanda, for once, I want to be my own person. To pursue my own dreams on my own terms." Stepping forward, I brushed my hands on my shorts, attempting to get rid of the sweat. "He's my friend, a really good one. But we’re talking work, not personal life."

She persisted, her tone unwavering. "Let's delve into the personal, then."

Turning away, I picked up a couple of the already empty cardboard boxes. "Honestly, I'd prefer if we didn't," I mumbled, carrying them towards the trash.

After ensuring Amanda wouldn't spontaneously combust from store-opening nerves, and after hearing her apologies for the intrusion, I bid farewell to Berlin. Every checklist and spreadsheet was printed and laminated, ready to be used for the inauguration. The gift boxes for the guests were carefully arranged on the counter and all the frames and backdrops for photos were set.

The airport buzzed with its customary end-of-August throng, yet, the line at security wasn’t so long.

As I dumped my belongings into the tray, the soft clinking of metal snagged my focus. My gaze drifted down, catching the glint of a tiny golden steering wheel illuminated by the airport's harsh lights.

A soft chuckle escaped my lips, swallowed by the surrounding crowd.

I’d been carrying it around since I’d left the track, half-drunk and drenched in champagne. I recalled being wearied by the day's events, too tipsy to recall the basics of Japanese and to walk in a straight line. I also remembered stumbling upon a souvenir stand near the track, my eyes fixating on those sparkling keychains. They had looked so delicate and golden, so artfully crafted that one might mistake them for actual gold if not for the 3000 yen price tag dangling from them—just shy of 20€.

Purchasing it had stirred up memories of our old tradition, those times when we'd strive to find the quirkiest gifts for each other. Snowglobes, magnets, postcards—each trinket carrying memories of the places we'd visited without each other.

"have fun at your dinner, soon to be birthday boy," I sent him a text as I settled into one of the seats by my gate.

Upon landing, a mirror selfie greeted me. There he was—a playful rogue, fresh out of the shower and sporting nothing but a strategically draped towel around his waist. A pout adorned his lips.

And as the caption: “i’ll try, but i’m feeling pretty lonely out here”

A one-shoulder black top draped over my frame, the asymmetrical neckline cutting the line of my chest. The wide linen pants I wore flowed gracefully with each of my steps, their relaxed fit exuding a laid-back vibe. My pants were cinched at the waist with a black leather belt, adding a subtle touch of edginess to the outfit. I reapplied my make-up in the Uber, after dropping my suitcases and the frame at the hotel lobby. Rio had arranged everything—a schedule so meticulously programmed that I couldn’t believe it was programmed by him.

I soon found myself standing outside the restaurant, my phone in hand as I dialled his number. Amsterdam was bursting with fans and tourists, nothing out of the ordinary for a night at the end of August, nearing the Grand Prix. Lost while observing the small crowds tracing the streets, I only noticed my brother’s familiar grin when he was close enough to trap me in a hug.

"Eva!" he held all the pride of the world in that hug.

"Hi," I laughed lightly. "Hey! I kinda need to breathe, you know?"

He released me with a sheepish grin, eyes sparkling with affection. He kissed my cheek before taking a step back. "Sorry, I’ve been saving this hug for a while now. And wow… The lipstick. Suits you.”

I put my hand on his chest, over the buttons of his dark green polo. “You're not looking too shabby yourself.”

His laughter echoed, genuine and carefree, as he linked his arm with mine. “Well, I do try to keep up appearances once or twice a year.”

“For birthdays and Christmas?”

“Yeah. Something like it.”

We strolled into the restaurant together. The anticipation of the evening hung in the air, tugging in my belly. God, what’s this feeling?

“What did you tell them?”

“Oh, you know—” Rio scratched the back of his neck. “Something about needing to take a call?”

I burst into laughter. "You literally managed to secretly arrange a flight and extra hotel room but couldn't come up with a more believable excuse for this?"

Rio joined in my laughter. "Hey, it worked! No one asked too many questions."

"Fair enough. Where’s the table?”

“At the back,” he pointed at an arch in the brick wall of the restaurant. “Have you spoken to Dad?”

“Not tonight, Rio,” I replied, pausing for a moment and turning slightly to face him. “Can we talk about all that tomorrow? It’s been a lot. I just want to eat something decent, rather, drink something decent and have a good time.”

He kissed my cheek. “Sure. I’m proud of you. Just remember that.”

Carlos was seated facing the archway, and my gaze was drawn to him the instant Rio and I stepped through it. It took Carlos a brief moment longer to register our presence. He was engrossed in conversation, his brows knit together as he spoke animatedly, his hands dancing with fervour as he talked. The room seemed to grow silent as my eyes focused on him. Then, as if pulled by an invisible force, his gaze met mine.

And the world went completely silent.

His lips curved into a smile that transformed his features, smoothing away any tension. He seemed to be filled with light and I felt so weightless, I felt I could have floated through the air like a feather—it wasn't the sensation of falling for him; or falling for each other, but rather the exhilarating feeling of ascending together, drawn irresistibly toward each other's orbit.

And I felt at ease.

Rio playfully tugged at my arm, drawing me further into the restaurant. "He's so ridiculously in love," he teased with a knowing grin, watching his best friend, already getting up from his chair.

A wistful smile touched my lips, my heart echoing with silent questions. The words hung unspoken in the air, a gentle whisper carried by the currents of emotion that flowed between us.

It was warm and cold at the same time. Too much happening and nothing at all.

“Fuck off,” I whispered. My brother just laughed.

My steps quickened with each heartbeat, a subtle urgency pushing me forward, almost outpacing my brother’s pace. I had to consciously force myself to walk slowly and not betray my haste to reach the table. All the way, my eyes didn’t leave Carlos, already on his feet, his hand resting casually on the back of his char. Effortless attire—whitewashed jeans and a simple T-shirt. His hair was a charming mess, tempting me to run my fingers through the tousled strands.

Around the table, faces were beginning to light up with recognition and surprise, the gathering of friends and acquaintances slowly rising to greet us. I waved at them, “Hi! Good night,” and a soft giggle bubbled from my lips as I caught the shared amusement on Carlos' friends' faces.

“Hey,” Carlos said.

As he leaned in to press a warm kiss to my cheek, the familiarity of his touch ignited a sense of comfort. He smelled nice. His hands found their way around me, wrapping me in a hug that felt both familiar and intoxicatingly new. I reciprocated the embrace, savouring the closeness while maintaining an air of casualness as if this were an ordinary occurrence.

“You’re here.” He whispered, the small sound cutting through the noise echoing in the room.

“I am,” I murmured softly, my voice carrying a warmth that was reserved for him alone. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Carlos chuckled, his breath tickling my ear as he pulled away. "What are you doing here? You must be exhausted."

"Just a little jet-lagged," I admitted with a sheepish smile, the exhaustion momentarily forgotten in his presence. “Nothing a good night of sleep and some Red Bull tomorrow won’t solve.”

"Red Bull, huh? Giving the opponents some business, are we?" Caco playfully remarked, dragging his chair to the side, to create space to add another seat to the table.

I chuckled, playing along. "Well, a little cross-team support never hurt anyone, right?"

"Alright, everyone," Rio's voice cut through our moment; by his side, two waitresses, one of them carrying a chair and the other one a set of plates and a glass. "We need another seat here, please." He motioned to the place between his and Carlos’ seats. “And bring back the menu, please, so she can pick something to eat.”

“Thank you,” I whispered, short moments after, taking my seat. “And I’ll just have some carbonara. No need for the menu.”

“Welcome back, Eva,” Caco said, before picking up the bottle of wine and filling my glass. “We missed you around here.”

The night was alive with energy, laughter, and the warmth of connection.

It felt nice to be back in the midst of a Team 55 dinner, just like it used to happen years ago when Carlos still wore yellow or orange and we were too blind to actually read through the lines. The familiarity of faces, the shared jokes and the easy camaraderie were a comforting reminder of the bonds that had formed over time, and that he was in good hands those last years.

It had been three years since the last Grand Prix I attended by Carlos' side. He was a man, now. A Grand Prix race winner. A Ferrari driver. He wore red, burning red. The Italian anthem had played for him. Not many had that honour.

The low hum of conversation blended seamlessly with the clinking of glasses and the occasional bursts of laughter. I let myself observe the group, the connection between them all, the aura around the table. It was like stepping into the past and finding home, once again.

As the clock neared midnight, Rio leaned in with a sly smile. "I think it's time for some champagne, don't you think?"

“Oh, no, I—We have work tomorrow,” Carlos’ voice was interrupted by a chorus of boos that echoed around the table. From the archway, a waitress appeared with a tray of mini burgers adorned with candles in her hands. “Oh, you didn’t!”

His laughter blended perfectly with the melody of “Happy Birthday” being echoed from everyone in the room, not only from our table but from the other ones, too. I focused my eyes on him, only to find out he was already looking at me, grin wide and eyes glistening.

“Mate, you’re getting old!” Rupert exclaimed before hugging him. “Speech!!" He called out, his strong British accent ringing through the cheers and applause, raising his glass and prompting others to follow suit.

“No, no!” Carlos shook his head, a playful protest on his lips, as the chant grew in volume. "Oh, come on, guys."

“Stop being a chicken, mate. Come on,” my brother whispered.

With a good-natured sigh, Carlos finally stood up, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He surveyed the faces around the table, and then around the room, his gaze lingering on each person before settling on me, his eyes warm and sincere.

"Alright, alright," he began, moving his hands in an attempt to hush the commotion around him. "Well, uh… Another one, right? 28!” The room grew quiet, the attention of every person fixed on Carlos as he spoke from the heart. One of the waiters passed him a flute filled with champagne. He took it in his hands and nodded, before whispering a thank you. "Birthdays have always been a time of reflection for me. A time to look back on the journey, the ups and downs and whatnot, and, of course, the people who have been by my side through it all. These guys right here.” He pointed to the table with the flute. “And I can honestly say that I am so incredibly lucky to have each and every one of you with me." He raised his glass and everyone mirrored his gesture, a sense of camaraderie filling the air. "To the team, to friendship, and to the memories we've created and the ones we're yet to make."

As the glasses clinked together in a toast, the atmosphere was charged with emotion and shared celebration. Carlos took a moment to catch my gaze, a twinkle in his eyes as he added, "And to Eva, who has been a constant source of support and inspiration. Here's to you, to your podium at WEC, and to many more victories."

I felt my cheeks burning and I tried to conceal my smile by having a sip of the champagne.

“To Eva!” My brother exclaimed, his glass raised in the air, prompting the others to follow.

“To Eva!” The room chanted, as Carlos approached me and planted a kiss on my cheek.

“I’m so proud of you.” He whispered.

“I hate you,” I whispered. “Thank you.”

The combination of jetlag, wine, champagne and the events of the night had left me feeling simultaneously exhilarated and tired. As we walked back, the city lights casting a soft glow around us, I leaned into Carlos, my head resting against his shoulder. He wrapped an arm around me.

“Tired?” he inquired, his voice a gentle caress against the night breeze.

I nodded against his shoulder, my gaze trailing to the figures of our friends walking ahead of us. “And a bit tipsy, I think. The day just went by so quickly.”

A soft chuckle escaped him, his fingers brushing against my arm in a soothing gesture. With a warmth that seeped into my skin, he said, “We’re almost there. 10 minutes and you'll be in bed.”

“No rush, really. I still need to give you your gift and get ready for bed. Lot more than 10 minutes.”

“Okay, then…” He pondered. I looked up, noticing the way his brow furrowed playfully. A small chuckle left my lips. “Let’s say… 40, then.”

“Ugh,” I unfed, wrapping my arm around his waist, under his leather jacket. “That’s a lot of time for someone who slept like… 5 hours today.”

“You needed to rest,” his voice had that tone of concern I was not yet quite used to hearing. “Rest. Not add another fight to the list.”

“And I will rest this weekend. Just hope your driver’s room has a good couch.”

His laughter resonated in the air, the sound a welcome companion in the quiet of the night. “The best in the Ferrari hospitality.”

“I’m in good hands, then.”

We walked in silence for a little while, casually observing the surroundings. Everyone was just too busy living their lives to notice or to care he was there. It was a 5-minute walk from the restaurant to the hotel, our friends had already disappeared from view when we entered through a side door, free from the small crowd that could potentially be waiting at the main entrance.

“How was Japan?” He asked when we were racing the elevators.

I smiled, my head turning from the closed doors to his face. “Wild.” The memories of the race weekend flooded my thoughts. A chuckle escaped me as I recalled some of them. “Insane, really… I mean... The Challenge was great, and everything. But this was serious, you know? Like… WEC is serious. People saw me there. Saw what I did, you know?” He nodded, a smile playing on his lips. “And this might sound super cocky, but… it was amazing.”

“Oh, you bet the world saw you. Your name rang in the paddock the whole day. And that interview you did with Anderson?”

“What about it?”

“I’m just jealous. I never looked that good on camera,” he teased, his eyes glinting with playful mischief. I laughed and followed the ping of the elevator, that now opened its doors to us. With his back turned to me, while he pressed one of the buttons, he questioned, “Am I one of those people?” Then, he turned back to me, a smug smile in his mouth. “The ones you mentioned. Do I inspire you?”

The corner of my lips lifted in a playful grin. “Do you really need to ask?" I watched as he shrugged, a nonchalant expression on his face. I rolled my eyes, “Well, you know… every time I see your face on TV, I think, ‘Wow, I have to learn something from that guy’.”

His laughter rang out, a sound that was as comforting as it was infectious. “That’s it? My handsome face is just a reminder to work harder?”

I matched his playful tone. “Well, either that or the fear of becoming the least interesting person on TV.” As he leaned against the wall, his body language inviting me closer, I complied without hesitation. I stepped into his space, still at a distance. ”I’ll let you pick whichever makes you feel better.”

He rolled his eyes before his gaze locked onto mine, a whole different haze around those orbs. The quiet hum of the elevator seemed to fade into the background, leaving only the two of us in our own world. His index finger hooked on the belt hoop of my pants, a subtle gesture that pulled me toward him. His voice, soft yet filled with longing, wrapped around me like a velvet ribbon.

“I miss you,” he confessed. “I was dying for a moment alone with you.”

“I’m all yours, now.”

His lopsided grin transformed into a mischievous smirk as he closed the distance between us. A pair of tender, delicate lips met mine, and I could feel the hint of his smile as I melted into his embrace, a contented sigh escaping my lips.

I lost myself in him, in the touch of his hands touching me everywhere, reclaiming my body and pressing me against him. The urgency grew. My fingers instinctively curled around the leather of his jacket, pulling him closer with a determined grip. His hands ventured to my lower back, drawing me nearer. We could have transcended into another dimension.

As the elevator doors finally opened on his floor, we reluctantly pulled away from each other, our lips lingering for a moment before breaking apart. The hunger in his gaze mirrored my own. With a silent understanding, we rushed through the hallway—stupid teenagers in a rom-com.

I felt the weight of the door click shut behind us as he pushed me against it, his lips already on my neck. Our perfumes mixed together, a scent already familiar, yet to which I had no resistance. I felt drunk on it. His hands left my waist to pull my top down and reveal my bare skin beneath. There was urgency in his touch, in his eyes, in the way he exhaled when he took a step back and took me in.

Under his eyes, goosebumps ran across my chest. Thingles shot up from my nipples.

Carlos ran his thumb over one of them, eyes studying the rose buds, his tongue peering between his lips. “No bra?” He teased, his eyes glinting.

“Though I might save us some time,” I whispered back.

“I like the way you think,” he replied with a low growl. The warmth of his breath touched my skin, making me shiver uncontrollably before his lips reached my breast.

To that, I would never get used. The velvet touch of his tongue, the particular way his lips seem to perfectly fit each crevice of my body. My hands came up to his hair, tangling myself in the silky locks as he suckled on my nipple, his tongue flicking over the hardened peak. I gasped, my head falling backwards.

Electricity shot through my body, pooling between my legs.

“I want to do something for you, today," I said.

He cocked an eyebrow at me, his eyes darkening with desire. "What?" The husky timbre of his voice sent a chill down my spine, as he undid the belt of my pants. From then, to the moment they fell on the floor, was a couple of seconds.

I descended from my heels and guided him to bed, where he sat at the edge. Then sat down, gently, on his lap, my legs spreading naturally. Slightly hesitating, he reached out, and glided his palm over my back and my ass, before tracing a path down the back of my thighs. With a more urgent touch, his fingertips burning in curiosity and anticipation, he continued until his hand reached the back of my knees and with a strong motion, pulled me nearer to him. Fuck. I quivered in his lap, a broken moan escaping my lips.

He smiled. "You like that?"

I nodded, biting my lip as I felt the heat in his eyes. Tentatively, I placed my hands on his shoulders and moved again, shamelessly grinding against his jeans. Again, a low, husky moan left my mouth and his fingers dug into my ass. He was completely dressed and I was soaking through my panties.

Cupping my face in his hands, he brought his mouth back to mine. Fierce and wet. Possessive and savage. I moaned against his mouth as his hands came up to my breasts, kneading them as I rode him harder. His touch was overwhelming, and I could feel myself getting close to the edge.

"No. Wait. I—” My hand rested on his chest. “You’re making me lose focus."

My chin was locked between his fingers, as he held my face close.

"Hm?" He groaned against my mouth. "On what, baby?"

"On you," I said, between breaths, my voice almost breaking. I forced myself to stop moving, even when I felt every inch of my body under a spell. My clit was throbbing, crying for attention. "Your shirt," I commanded, and in seconds, it was flying to the floor.

The cool floor stimulated my heated skin, as I knelt in front of him. My eyes couldn't leave his face—the strands falling over his forehead, his slightly flushed cheeks, his swollen lips. I reached out, my fingers deftly working on his belt buckle, my every movement deliberate and tantalizing. Dark orbs stared at me from behind sleep-tousled eyes, desire taking them whole. Unzipping him, I let the jeans fall to his feet before touching him over his white Calvin Kleins. I could feel my mouth watering at the imprint of his erection on the fabric.

Looking up again, there was a grin on his lips.

His thumb gently traced the contour of my bottom lip, urging it to part. Without hesitation, I complied, welcoming his finger into my mouth. My lips closed around it, gently sucking as my hands explored him through the fabric of his boxers. His response was immediate; he bit his lower lip, a guttural groan escaping as I slid the elastic waistband down, releasing him into the open.

Carlos pulled himself up in bed, pulling off his boxers on his way. His eyes wandered briefly to a spot just beyond me, a mischievous smile playing on his lips.

"Panties off, baby," he commanded. With ease, he positioned himself at the centre of the bed, his legs parted invitingly.

Glancing swiftly behind me, my eyes landed on a mirror. Without hesitation, I followed his command, sliding my panties down, ensuring my reflection in the mirror granted him the view he deserved. Then, I gracefully crawled towards him, positioning myself between his legs with my knees slightly apart, my ass elevated in the air.

His cock rested against my lips. I moved in, sucking gently, as I looked up. He didn’t know where to look: his eyes flickered from the mirror down to my face to the mirror again. I moved my tongue up and down his shaft and then he finally looked away from the mirror and at me.

"You're beautiful," he breathed, his voice low and throaty. I blinked up at him, confused by his words. "So beautiful," he repeated. "The way you're looking at me, the way you're sucking me off. It's fucking beautiful."

I blushed, feeling shy and exposed under his gaze. I loved the way he looked at me, with such certainty and admiration. I loved that he saw me as something beautiful. Something worth saving. I parted my lips and slid my mouth around his shaft then pulled back, taking him as slowly as I could. He tilted his head and cried out, the vibration of his voice sending a shock of heat into my core.

I smiled up at him as I shifted, angling him so he was hitting the back of my throat.

"You like this?" He asked, a grin spreading across his face. I nodded, my head moving faster. "You're going to make me come in your mouth, aren't you?" I nodded again, my eyes locked onto his. His voice was low and commanding, his grip tight in my hair. I moaned around him, pleasure radiating through me as I felt him pulsating in my mouth.

My tights moved in the air, my pussy pulsating, crying for attention.

"Baby," he called. I looked up. "Touch yourself. But don't stop. You're doing so well."

I couldn't focus on anything else but what he was telling me to do. I reached down, feeling my wetness seep through my fingers. A moan slipped past my lips as I started stroking myself, faster and faster. My clit was throbbing, begging for attention. I glanced at Carlos, watching him struggle to keep control. He looked so strained, his body tense, his torso glistening with tiny droplets of sweat. He looked so fucking good.

"You're going to make me come, baby." He groaned, thrusting deeper into my mouth. I increased the speed of my movements, my head bobbing up and down on his shaft. I could feel him getting closer, the pulse in his cock growing faster and faster.

He came quickly, his cum filling my mouth and down my throat. I swallowed, my stomach muscles contracting as I drank down every last drop. He released my hair and lay in bed, his breathing erratic. "Come here."

"He—Where?"

"Here," he said like it was obvious. "Sit on my face."

For a second, I hesitated. But then he looked at me, his eyebrow pointing up, his tongue wandering between his lips and God, how, better, why would I say no? I complied, sinking down on top of him. His hands came up to my ass, spreading me open as he took my aching pussy into his mouth. And that was another thing I could never get used to. I gasped, my hands coming down to grip his hair, now tousled and sweaty. His tongue was wet and velvety as it flicked over my clit. I ground against him, my breathing becoming ragged.

"Come for me, baby," he murmured. He was a starved man. I was his precious meal. And how good it felt to me worshipped like that. "Come on my fucking tongue."

My body shook as I came hard, my pussy clenching tightly around his tongue. He kept going, licking and sucking until I was crying out in sheer ecstasy, my hands gripping the headrest, my knuckles turning white as the sensations overwhelmed me.

I lay sprawled on the bed, my legs still jerking, tingling with aftershocks of delight, my naked form glistening with a light sheen of sweat, utterly spent and exhilarated.

Carlos approached me, his nose touching mine, making me smile. “You were so good,” he whispered just before he pressed a slow, tender kiss against my lips. My mouth parted in anticipation of his, like always. My eyes drifted closed as I kissed him back.

“Happy birthday,” I said with drunken delight.

A small humm from him was the only response I got until I felt his hands pulling me to him, holding me close to his chest. A kiss on the forehead followed that, then another, this time on the top of my head.

His hands were warm where they trailed down my back.

And then I drifted to sleep.

There was a strange weight over my belly.

A warm stream of air against my skin, rhythmically kissing my ribs. The room was dark and warm, and my head hurt. A few morning sun rays seeped through the binds, wrapping the room in a warm yet slow yellow tint. I tried to move my leg, but it was wrapped in another body. And a smile emerged on my lips.

Slowly, I stretched my hand, the touch of his hair sending shivers down my spine. Heat flushed through me when my sleepy gaze fell on him. His back rose up in perfect curves, taut muscles rolling along his spine with every breath, like waves coming ashore. My tan glowed under his brown hair, which fell in soft strands against my chest. The curve of his torso disappeared at his waist, revealing a small hollow where he had curled up against me as if he belonged there—as if that moment was what life was all about.

Hearts beating so slowly.

A silence so full of a promise of peace and security in the uncertainty.

The previous days had been so full, so messy, so… scary.

And I was never a fan of sleeping like this, especially in the summer, but if it meant to wake up to that view, my mind could change.

I blinked awake, feeling disoriented and confused. Memories from last night swirled around in my head, jumbled and hazy, until my mind slowly pieced together what happened. A long dinner, a lot of wine. Messy kisses on the elevator, even messier in bed. Slowly, the memories coalesced into a coherent whole, and I realized that I was in Carlos' hotel room, our bodies naked and intertwined. I could feel the sheets beneath me, the weight of his body against me, the scent of sex and him, in an intoxicating mixture, pulling me back to sleep.

Silence stretched around.

The sound of his breath evened out, deep asleep.

It was hot, and the logical part of my mind urged me to get up, take a shower and remind Carlos of his commitments, but against reason, I resisted the urge. Instead, I lay there, gently tracing the short waves of his hair and basking in the sight of him peacefully sleeping on my chest.

And perhaps that is what life is all about, after all.

Our intimacy reverberated in the depths of that silence that didn’t need to be fulfilled. Felt right. The weight of his body shifted, relieving mine from the warmth and when my eyes met his, he was looking up at me, a soft lazy curve on his lips.

“You’re awake,” he murmured at some point, his voice barely audible.

“I am.”

Carlos leaned in, and our lips met in a slow, languid kiss. Each brush of our lips, a moment of pure vulnerability and adoration. The brush of his fingers on my cheeks, our legs intertwined, our bodies finding comfort against each other. Wafting through the atmosphere, the deep understanding that there was no better place we could be.

“You have to go get ready.”

Carlos hummed against my jawline, his fingers tracing lazy circles on my bare skin. "I set an alarm," he murmured, his warm breath sending shivers down my spine. “Why you’re up so early? It’s like…” He stretched his arm to check the time on the nightstand. “6.30.”

“Time doesn’t make sense,” I hummed, a tired smile on my face. He chuckled softy. My fingers danced across his skin, the warmth and softness of it inviting my touch. They came to a rest at the nape of his neck, where delicate strands of hair brushed against my fingertips, silently urging me to thread them between my fingers. “And someone was crushing me.”

Carlos nuzzled closer, a playful smile gracing his lips. "I plead innocent. It's not my fault if you turned out to be irresistibly cuddly."

Feigning mock indignation, I swatted his arm gently. “Excuse me? Turned out? ”

His laughter bubbled forth, warm and rich, filling the room with its infectious energy. He then rolled to his side, and as my eyes fell on his barely disturbed pillow, I pondered whether we had drifted off like that or if he had moved during the night. Adjusting my position, I turned to face him.

“It’s quite nice to wake up like this, you know?” I admitted with a soft smile, my gaze locked onto his. Carlos’ chuckle danced in the air, playful and affectionate.

“Now… Excuse me! Actually nice? Were you doubting it?” he teased, a playful glint in his eyes that mirrored the lightness of our banter. “Have you seen me?”

“Oh, yes. I have.”

“So, why is it actually nice?”

“Because I thought it would be different. That I wouldn’t be so comfortable to be naked in bed with you. I mean, I saw you eat worms as a child—” A giggle left my lips. “And now I let those same lips kiss me.”

“Oh, baby, you let them do so much more. I can still taste you,” he said with a smirk, his hand travelling down to my ass and pushing me to him.

A soft laughter escaped my lips, a mixture of surprise and amusement. Carlos' playful response was exactly what I had come to expect from him. "Oh, now we're getting cheeky, are we?"

His smirk deepened, his fingers tracing a teasing pattern along the back of my thigh. My leg was now wrapped around his. "Well, you know me."

I shifted closer to him, my fingers tracing lazy circles on his chest. "You're incorrigible."

The air between us was light, infused with a sense of ease that came so naturally when we were together. It was moments like these that I cherished the most—the unfiltered exchanges, the unspoken understanding, the unbreakable connection. His fingers traced patterns in my skin, mine stood still in his chest, the beating of his heart under my digits—a language of touch and glances that we had grown accustomed to without even noticing. The warmth of his body against mine, the intimacy of our shared space—it all felt so right, so beautifully intimate.

Carlos propped himself up on his elbow, his gaze tender yet searching. "You know, for what it's worth,” he began.

“Yes?”

“Waking up next to you feels... right," he admitted, his tone softening, his gaze holding mine. And then, as a contemplative expression crossed his features, he shifted his gaze to the window. "You know, I never expected this,” his voice tinged with a mixture of wonder and vulnerability. "I never thought we would ever fall on the same page. Either because I thought I didn’t deserve to be seen this way by you or because… I don’t know. I was so afraid of fucking up and losing you…"

His words settled like a gentle wave, each syllable a touch on my soul. The rawness in his voice stirred something within me, a connection that seemed to reach beyond words. His touch was warm on my skin, his words so low and his voice so rough, the timbre a caress that sorted through the depths of my emotions. I laid back in bed, my hands resting over my belly, in the spot where he had been asleep moments before. It was still warm.

"I couldn’t stop thinking about losing you. Until I did. And then I couldn’t stop dreaming about having you back. And then I saw you in the garage, at Mugello, and… it all came back, you know?” His eyes dropped to my chest, and then to my eyes. “The fear of letting you go," he confessed softly, his gaze unwavering.

The vulnerability in his words was a mirror to my own heart, an echo of the fears and doubts that had once haunted both of us. It almost felt too much.

"But then… The second you allowed me to get close enough, to look at you and truly see you…” He stretched his fingers and let his hand find the skin of my chest. Over my stern, he let his index wander, from my neck to my hands. “To feel you… This is not about losing. Is it?”

“It is not,” I replied, a small smile curving my lips.

His hand wandered to my side, his thumb tracing a gentle path over my breast. I looked down, admiring the way my body reacted to him—eager shivers, a symphony of sensations awakening in its trail. With every touch, it felt like being discovered anew. Each time he touched me, it felt like being touched for the very first time all over again.

“You have no idea how much I understand that,” I murmured, lifting my head from the pillow, my lips seeking his. He met me halfway, his head tilting to close the distance between us.

So mellow and slow. Warm and comforting. And lazy. Our kisses unfolded in unhurried movements, a languid exploration of each other's emotions. Time seemed to stretch and bend, because in that space, within the circle of his arms, we could afford to be lazy. Outside, the world was put on hold.

Carlos moved to hover over me, his frame settling in between my legs, shielding me from the sunlight rays seeping through the curtains. It was all him. And the lines of his stupidly handsome body and face, enhanced by the light hitting his back.

“I have a question,” I said, looking up at him.

The corner of his lips tugged up in a smirk, as he lowered himself to kiss my chin. “Not now, baby.”

“Yes, now, baby.”

He looked up. The lines of his face were disguised in the dark room. “I really would like to start this day inside you.” He ran his hand on my side, stopping at the back of my leg and guiding it around his waist. “Can we do that?”

“But that won’t answer my question.”

“That will make me very very very happy.” He kissed my chin, again. And then my cheek, my jaw, just below my ear. I exhaled, a stupid smile on my lips. Yeah, I had no chance against his tactics. My fingers moved on his biceps, tautening under my touch as he pressed his waist against me. “Can you feel how happy you make me?” he asked, his voice low and velvet smooth.

"Hmhm," I acknowledged. And he did it again, eyes locked on mine. A small moan escaped between my pressed lips and he chuckled, amused.

I shut my eyes as he moved his hips again, this time sliding against my slick folds. So close, yet so agonizing far. I could feel my own desire and the knowledge of it made my blood boil in my veins. I wanted him more than anything, and my body needed him just the same.

"Carlos," I begged, arching my back as he teased me mercilessly. "Please."

He chuckled softly, pushing himself up a little so that his lips could find mine. "Please what?" he asked, his voice a soft tease.

Make love to me. The words erupted from a very hidden corner of my mind, still lost in sleep and trapped in the fabric of dreams.

"Please," I repeated, this time a little louder. "I need you."

"I can see that," he replied, his voice low and serious. I opened my eyes to find him looking down, guiding his cock with one hand and using the other to move some strands of hair away from his face. "How are you so wet already, baby?"

How couldn’t I be?

I couldn't answer. All I could do was whimper as he teased me again, his tip sliding all the way through my slit, poking the entrance.

"You like being teased, don't you?" he asked, his voice low and sinful. "You like it so much that it’s a shame I can’t spend the whole day making you go crazy with it."

"Yes," I gasped, arching my back to get closer to him. He circled the entrance and I pressed my feet to the mattress, my head going back to the pillow as my body ached for him. "Please, Carlos."

"Okay, baby. I'm here," he said lowly, his voice a throaty whisper. He kissed me again, slowly but deeply. His tongue brushed against mine, my lips trapped between his teeth. "I'll make love to you."

The words were like a balm to my achy heart, a balm that soothed and healed. Carlos eased himself in slowly, a slow, torturous movement that made my entire body cry for him. And then out. Even more slowly. My hands moved to his shoulders, and then to his hair, urging him back. And when he was finally inside me again, I let out a long, trembling breath.

The slick, wet heat of us was heaven. His movements were slow and deliberate, a delicious torture that made me writhe uncontrollably beneath him.

"Austria," he breathed, his head hovering above mine as he moved his hips against me, burying himself deeper inside. I opened my eyes, meeting his intense gaze. "That's what made me go to Mugello."

A moan escaped my lips as he pushed even further, my back arching in response to the pleasure coursing through me. His eyes, filled with a burning desire, remained locked onto mine. "How? Why?" I managed to ask, my voice trembling with need.

"The fire," he confessed, his movements deliberate and sensual. His fingers slid through mine, our hands intertwining as he raised them above my head and thrust into me once more, the sensation more intense than before. "I didn't think about dying or getting hurt. All I could think about was you.” He moaned lowly, a fucking melody in my ears. “Your voice in my head."

I furrowed my brow, his words slowly registering in my desire-clouded mind. Sensations of pleasure and love pulsed through me as he continued to move, his gaze never leaving mine. He was taking his time, savouring every moment of our connection.

“Me?”

His grip on my fingers got stronger. “You.”

And then, in my cloudy mind, in the midst of all things I was feeling and desiring, the endless goodbyes we exchanged. His cologne mixed with rubber and oil, the sound of engines and rattle guns. The hugs at the airport, at home, before leaving and after arriving.

"Go race but don't die in there," I whispered, the words escaping my lips like a fervent prayer. He cracked a small, affectionate smile.

"Exactly that," he murmured against my lips. "And then, for a fraction of a second, I thought of dying. And how I wouldn't see you ever again."

I swallowed hard, the ache in my chest intensifying. My feelings seemed bigger than myself.

"I want to be with you."

Carlos's face softened at my words. "I want that, too, baby," he whispered, his voice full of love and tenderness, his chest pressing against mine as he caught my lips in a slow kiss, burying himself inside me once more.

And then he was moving faster, harder, and I was lost, lost in the waves of pleasure crashing over me and the idea of how I had found home. I was falling. No safety net, yet the wind in my face was greater than any safety I had ever known.

Minutes after climax, both of us still lost in post-sex bliss and in each other, Carlos’ alarm rang on the nightstand. The room was now more brightly lit, but our bodies were still languid and sated, lost in the cocoon of our intimate connection. I couldn't help but roll my eyes at the strident symphony of the alarm.

"Think I've got time for a quick nap?" I inquired with a playful raise of my eyebrow.

Carlos let out a soft chuckle as he silenced the alarm. "You can sleep while I hit the shower," he suggested, his voice still husky. "And then you'll need to get up and start getting ready, or else we’ll be late."

Feeling the weight of exhaustion creeping in, I sighed deeply while sitting up in bed. I looked around. Last night was still a confusing puzzle in my mind. And then, it all came to clarity. "Fuck!" I exclaimed, suddenly realizing, "Rio has my key card."

"Why—How did that happen?"

"What do you mean, 'how'? He did the check-in, and I just dropped my bags here at the hotel and ran to the restaurant. I—Fuck. This is on you," I threw him a pillow.

Despite my efforts, he caught it quite easily. “How is this my fault?”

“You… seduced me in the elevator,” he laughed at my words, taking a hand to his belly.

Getting up, he threw me the pillow and walked to the closet, taking a robe out of there. To be honest, half my worries disappeared while he walked naked through the room, the view being distraction enough.

"Well,” he passed me the robe. “Rio's room is just across the hall. You can pop over there, grab the key card, and sort your stuff out. I can even go for you, if you want."

My anxiety spiked at the thought of such a direct confrontation. "You want me to just knock on my brother's door and say, 'Hi, I just spent the night with your best friend. Nice night overall, but now I need my stuff to get ready.’?"

Carlos pondered the situation for a moment before responding. “Yes.”

With a sigh and a reluctant nod, I accepted the robe. I wrapped it around me, the rush of nerves tugging around at the same time. Talking to my brother about last night wasn't something I was eager to do. If there was something good about having him moving soon out of the house, was the fact that never, in my whole life, had he encountered a guy leaving my room. But there was no avoiding it now, was it?

"Alright," I muttered, summoning my resolve. "I'll go get the key card and then I’ll get ready. We meet at breakfast. But if this turns into an awkward family moment, I'm blaming you."

Carlos chuckled, his voice a soothing balm to my frazzled nerves. "I'll take full responsibility.” He picked up the second robe and dressed it. “It's not the end of the world, Eva. He’s done worse."

I gave him a wry smile, appreciating his attempt to ease my tension. "Easy for you to say," I quipped, heading towards the door.

I mustered up the courage to walk across the hall and knock on Rio's door. Barefoot and with my hair tied in a terrible bun. It didn't take long before my brother answered, and the smirk on his face was undeniable.

"Eva, my dear sister," he said, his tone teasing. "Can’t say I wasn’t waiting for you."

"Cut it out, Fabrizio,” I moved in my feet. “Can I just get my key card?”

He feigned innocence. "Key card?”

“Come on, I need to go get ready.”

He raised an eyebrow, still grinning. "Oh, I'm sure you do.”

“Rio, I swear to God—” he interrupted me with a laugh while taking a step back and opening the door. My bags rested against his closet. I frowned. “How? Why?”

Rio's laughter rang through the room as I walked in to retrieve my bags. He leaned against the door frame, still chuckling. "Well, sis," he began, a mischievous glint in his eyes, "I figured, why waste the money on a separate room for you when I knew you'd end up there anyway? Plus, it's been ages since I had a chance to tease you properly."

I shook my head in disbelief, simultaneously amused and annoyed by his antics. "I should've known you'd pull something like this."

He gave me an unapologetic grin. "What can I say? It's in my big brother's job description to embarrass you whenever possible.”

I rolled my eyes, but a fond smile tugged at the corners of my lips. "Alright, alright," I relented, grabbing my suitcase, purse and Carlos’ gift. "I'll see you at breakfast. And for the record, Carlos is a way better roommate than you."

Rio laughed heartily, waving me off as I headed back to Carlos' room. As I closed the door behind me, I couldn't help but shake my head at my brother's antics. On the other side of the hall, the door was closed. I knocked, hoping Carlos hadn’t yet stepped into the shower.

When he opened the door, his face broke into a grin, which quickly escalated into hearty laughter. “Guess it’s a sleepover, now,” I said.

He shrugged. “Good thing we get along well.”

I'll review the chapter again in a day or two, so I'm sorry if there are a few typos, but I just finished it. Happy birthday, Carlito. Hope Monza is good for him, this weekend. post weekend edit: MONZA WAS GOOD FOR HIM, IM CRYING HAPPY TEARS taglist: @alesainz @juliantheupsidedown @dreamsarebig (i forgot to tag people when i posted the chapter because i was just so nervous about posting this (we love anxiety) so sorry, but ill try to not forget next time) thank you all for the messages and the replies and especially the reblogs! i love you all SO much. thank you so much for the support. Hope you all enjoyed the chapter. See you around. All the love, Bru 🤍

#Tightrope #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz fanfic #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 one shot #fanf1ction #f1 fanfic #driver x you #f1 driver x you #f1 driver x reader #driver x reader #carlos sainz fluff #carlos sainz jr #carlos sainz angst

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grapejuicestyless · 3 months

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Could You Imagine That?

JJ Maybank x fem!reader

Summery: You failed. The gold, the cross, the fame, the fortune. But really, who cared? Not when you had the best gift of all. Inspired by the song: Forever by Noah Kahan

We listen to Pope and Kiara argue about who knows how to build a fire better, throwing logs into a heap by a pile of rocks and lining stones in a circle in the sand. John B and Cleo make beds for everyone to sleep on and Sarah works on some sort of spear for us. Yet, JJ and I haven’t even given a second thought of how long we just might be here for.

Maybe a few more hours, a couple days or years. In the end, did it really matter? We’d been just fine so far and we’d swear the feeling of freedom was worth it no matter how starved we became or how cold the nights were. We’d screamed about Poguelandia hundreds or times already, calling out the name of this great island and hoisting the flag we’d painted with rocks and the mud packed beneath them. Our hands pruning from the salt water and our shorts left on the edge of the shore line while we ran around in our underwear, splashing around like little kids and laughing like old friends should.

“We’re broke!” We laughed, finding the fact that we failed more funny than anything. Because had we really failed if we got a greater gift than what being filthy rich could give us?

“But real rich in our heads!” JJ would scream back, chasing me down along the edge of the ocean. And when the waves slowed my strides he lifted me from my waist with his tanned arms, not minding how our wet bodies stuck together like glue and our clothes would surely stink like ocean for as long as we’d be here.

“Won’t be alone for the rest of our lives!” I laughed in his hold, and his grip restricted my lungs but I would take the ache that came with it over any other feeling in the world. Because even after he loosens his grip, he never really lets me go and I am reminded of how he’s always within arms reach. Ready to make me smile, make me laugh. And it’s worth more than anything money could buy.

“Can you guys help us?” Kiara calls out desperately, but even she can’t hide the smile on her face, how much she loves the idea of it just being her and the Pogues all together and safe for just a small moment in the grand timeline of adventure ahead. No parents, no threats, no blood or tears. Just the sun and sand beneath our feet. A good cooked fish roasting over the fire and beds woven with leaves under our heads.

“Come in the waters just fine!” JJ splashes, catching a glare from Pope as the salt water briefly tames the fire they just started. And when Kiara catches his line of vision, we don’t have to look back to know their broken laughter is because their stripping to join us in the sea. Ready to splash around carelessly like children do, like we do.

“Can you imagine being here, like this forever? No more window shopping or late rent!” I laugh, bearing all my teeth in my smile when Kiara wraps her arms over my shoulders and places a sloppy kiss to my cheek.

“Won’t be alone for the rest of our lives!” She repeats my words back to me, eyes shining with the glow of the sunset that casts a warm hue over her sunburnt cheeks.

“Poguelandia forever, baby!” JJ’s arms pull Kiara away from me, and like glue, I’m stuck to him with nothing more to offer than the sweetest smile and the world shining in my eyes. I feel more alive than ever and theres not an ounce of gold that could replace it.

“Oh my god!” Cleo laughs at the scene in front of her, dry wood under her arm and a soft blush in her cheek from the sun. We’re all drenched in salt or sweat but we can’t help but feel absolutely okay with it.

You could fly over head at that very moment, on the search for miserable teens in need of help and you wouldn’t even look twice. The way everyone laughed like brothers and sisters and cherished what the world gave them, you’d think we were on some vacation. Like we hadn’t washed up here by accident.

Broken bones and aching muscles worth every moment that led us to this island and this life.

Looking back at JJ, I see the stars in his eyes and the world under his feet. It’s all we’ve ever wanted. A simple life by the ocean with all the people we love. So, we might be broke, we might be hungry and by god we might smell but by god are we richer than most.

“Poguelandia forever.” JJ whispers only for my ears to hear, forehead pressing against mine and his eyes observing the crinkles by my eyes. His thumbs lift from my hips to rub against my cheeks. Then he kisses me, kisses me in a way I hadn’t felt since before death looked at us in the eyes and grief was all we knew. Like we both knew finally that it would all work out and we would be okay.

When we pull away, we share the same hazy look we had plastered on our cheeks before and his hands plant themselves firmly on my hips once again. Squeezing the skin between his fingers playfully and drowning out the world around us.

“Could you imagine that.”

#jj maybank x you #jj mayback imagine #jj mayback x reader #jj maybank #jjmaybankangst #jj maybank fluff #p4l #jj maybank x pogue!reader #poguelandia #the pogues #pogue!reader #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x routledge!reader

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dilemmaontwolegs · 11 months

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The Aftermath || LN4 {9}

Pairing: Lando Norris x widow!reader Summary: Lando risks upsetting the FIA to give you the memorial they denied a year ago. Warnings: 18+ only, alcohol, fluff, tearful Lando 🥺 WC: 2k

F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten || Eleven || Twelve || Thirteen || Epilogue

“Ride with us!”

You frowned down at Lando’s grinning face from the balcony above the garage thinking you had heard him wrong. “What?”

He pointed to the grid where the trailer for the parade was hooked up and waiting. “You too, maman.”

Maria squeezed your arm with a smile as she turned towards the stairs. “Let’s not keep them waiting.”

Lando met you at the bottom, his arm curling around your waist as he guided you to the gate at the back while Zak walked with Maria. His lips brushed your cheek as he dipped his head to whisper, “Think something’s going on with those two?”

You smiled at the sound of Maria’s laugh and shrugged. “I don’t know, but as long as she’s happy then it’s got to be a good thing.”

Lando’s hands gripped your waist and lifted you into the back of the trailer before he leapt up to join you. It was only once you had taken hold of the rail tightly that you spared a glance around the other drivers and noticed they all carried wreaths.

“What’s that?”

Lando shrugged shyly as he stepped in behind you, one hand holding the rail with you and the other waving to the crowd. “Since you missed the memorial at home I thought maybe we could have one of our own.”

You turned away from the crowd and he dropped his waving hand to cage you between his arms as the truck began to drive down off the grid, saving you from jostling at the sudden movement.

“Won’t the FIA have a problem with that?”

“What can they do? Penalise all of us?” he laughed. “And if it’s a fine, we’re happy to pay it.”

“They’ll blame you.”

“They’ve made so many wrong conclusions, but at least they would be right this time,” he joked. “Relax, love, it’ll be fine.”

Lando went back to waving to the fans and you smiled at the ones who held up signs for René, most of them orange hearts or the French flag with his driver number in the middle.

It wasn’t long that the smooth ride slowed and the trailer came to a stop at the barrier that had long since been replaced but you still saw the mangled metal and oil slick in your mind's eye.

You startled a little when Lando’s hand came to rest on yours and gently pulled it free of the rail. You shook your head to clear the image and the sounds of the track returned along with Lando’s calm voice as he murmured encouraging words in your ear.

You focused on his voice as he jumped off the back of the trailer before offering his hands to catch you next. Already the other drivers had made their way off track and were placing the bouquets and wreaths along the barrier. Some whispered quiet prayers and signed the cross, while others took a moment to reflect in silence.

You drifted over to the barrier with Lando at your side and sank to your knees in the soft grass running your fingers through the blades, waiting for the crushing weight to settle into your chest. The seconds ticked by as the wind picked up, the breeze a cooling welcome touch to your skin, but still the pain never came. There was only the permanent sense of sadness that hung like a small cloud in the sky no matter how sunny the day was.

“I miss you,” you whispered as you plucked a single red rose from the bouquet Lando held. Its sweet scent reminded you of the garden you had planted with René at home and the thorns dug into your palm as your hand tightened around the stem before you laid it among the rest. “You should see your fans. There’s so much love for you here, I can feel it all around me. Your mum was right.”

The drivers started to make their way back to the trailer and Lando pressed a kiss to your forehead. “When I was waiting beside him at the altar he made me promise if anything happened to him that I would take care of you. I never got to say the words to him because the doors opened and you walked in looking like an absolute angel,” his voice was thick with emotion and he cleared his throat before placing his bouquet with the others. “You have my word, René, I swear on my life.”

He grabbed the sunglasses tucked into the collar of his hoodie, pushing them over his red eyes and you wrapped your arms around his waist as he buried his head in your neck.

“He knows, babe,” you murmured as you rubbed his back until the small shudders of his silent sobs eased, being his strength for once. Neither of you acknowledge the damp marks on your shoulder, neither of you said a word as he looked at the flowers once more before heading back to the trailer.

“Take as long as you need, love,” he said quietly as he went.

You stood alone absorbing the moment, basking in the love that was surrounding you as you touched the cold metal barrier and looked back at Lando to see Maria placing her hand on his shoulder with a small smile. “Watch over him, Ren. Please keep him safe, for me.”

You were drunk, and so was Lando. There was no other way to put it. Finishing third had not been expected after the car’s performance in qualifying but, by luck or miracle, the conditions had been perfect for him to set a fast pace and move up the grid. So, needless to say, you were celebrating the hell out of the accomplishment with Lando in a packed nightclub full of his supporters and team.

“I’m so proud of you, baby!” The smile hadn’t left your face since he passed the chequered flag but with all the alcohol in your system you couldn’t feel the ache of the muscles in your cheeks. You cupped his face and traced his dimples with your thumbs before kissing him and getting lost in the spur of the moment.

“I love you and I am so lucky to have you.” There was no stopping the words flowing from your mouth, you were too excited for him since it had been a while since his last podium. The pressure from his Principle to get more points could finally ease a little and he was already looking more relaxed. “I think I drank too much, the room's kind of spinning.”

Lando’s laugh was contagious as he took the glass of champagne from your hand and finished it for you with a suggestion to dance instead. It took far longer than expected to make it through the crowd to the dance floor with everyone wanting to stop and congratulate him but you were happy to take it slow seeing how happy it made him.

He eventually extracted himself from the crowd and caught up to where you had found yourself under the lights and amongst the swell of people dancing the night away. His fingers laced with yours as he drew your hands up his body before he draped them around his neck and he pulled you closer.

You didn’t even notice the hundreds of people around you when Lando started moving against you. There was nothing but him and the music that his hips moved to, and the sound of his voice as he brushed his lips below your ear.

“You are breathtakingly beautiful, love.” The song changed and you turned in Lando’s arms deciding to tease him back as you danced against him, rolling your hips to the sensual music. His hands tightened their grip, his fingers digging into your hips where they had come to rest. “We need to leave before I do something very naughty right here in front of all these people.”

You peeked over your shoulder to see his bottom lip caught between his teeth and his glazed eyes full of promise. “But this is your party.”

“So I can do what I want, and I want you.” He kissed the space where your shoulder met your neck. “You’re driving me crazy.”

You stepped out of his touch, immediately missing the warmth of his body against your back, and took his hand. A grin grew on his face when you tugged him forward and he was quick to overtake you on the way to the door, separating the crowd and keeping you tucked in behind his body like a shield.

The cool air of the night hit your lungs and a shiver rolled down your spine at the sudden drop in temperature until Lando pulled you closer and waved for a taxi. It was hardly worth putting the seat belt on for how far down the road the car was going to take you but after Lando had opened the door for you he had walked around the car and taken his seat he had tutted after seeing the belt buckle empty.

“Not on my watch, love,” he said as he reached over you and grabbed the belt. “I need you safe and sound.”

Your lips pressed into a line when you tried to hide your amusement at his protectiveness. “Yes, daddy.”

His eyes flashed to yours and he curled an eyebrow up before he started biting his bottom lip again. “What did you say?”

The taxi pulled into the hotel entrance and you didn’t wait for Lando to come and open your door. You were already walking to the room as fast as your high heels would allow while he rushed to pay for the fare.

You could hear him racing to catch up when you turned down the hall that your suite was on. A squeak escaped before you could silence it when he caught up and pinned you to the door with his body, his lips stealing the soft moan that followed.

“What. Did. You. Say?” he enunciated between each kiss as he swiped his card over the handle and opened the door.

You almost fell backwards as it suddenly swung open but Lando’s arm curled around your waist and pulled you flush against him. Your lips parted with a heady sigh as you felt his hard length begging to be freed from his jeans but he smirked and shook his head when you tried to reach for him.

“Uh-uh, I’m still waiting,” he tutted as he walked you backwards into the room and kicked the door shut behind him. “I want to hear that little quip again, love.”

You teased him with a smile as you reached behind your back for the zip that kept your dress on. “I didn’t realise you were so eager to be a father.”

“You know that’s not what I mean,” he chuckled as he moved your hand and dragged the zip slowly down your spine. “But with you it wouldn’t be so bad.”

“Wouldn’t be so bad?” you repeated with a cocked eyebrow and a playful smile. “I understand the ‘no rizz Norris’ now.”

The material slipped down your body and you felt Lando’s exhale warm across your neck before he kissed your racing pulse. “Do you want me to tell you how much I would love to settle down with you, start a family and grow old with you? Because I will. I want it all. With. You.”

You tilted your head to give him more access as his words and the alcohol made your head spin. All of the futures you had once thought would be with René had died with him, but they came crashing back with Lando and you could see it playing out in your head. “When were you planning on telling me this?”

He smirked as his hands trailed down your body before he grabbed your thighs and picked you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as he made his way to the bedroom. “When you called me daddy.”

Click here for part ten.

Tagging: @yunnie-f1 @neiich @zendayabelova @stillbreathin @dr3lover @writerscurse @christianpulisic10 @alwaysclassyeagle @alexisquinnlee-bc @purplephantomwolf @lightsoutletsgo @pleasantducktimetravel @pierre-gasllllllyyyyyy @holy-macncheese-balls @belennasif @ophcelia @love4lando @ryiamarie

#lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x you #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #formula 1 fanfic #formula one imagine #formula one fanfiction #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine

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demonicbaby666 · 5 months

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Tears on the Window Pane

One shot | Supergirl Masterlist | Masterlists

Fandom: Supergirl

Pairing: Lena Luthor x fem!Reader

Genre: Smut

Words: 2.6k+

Warnings: 18+, minors DNI, toxic ex, jealousy, alcohol, rough sex, fingering, humiliation (if you look hard enough), semi-public sex, degradation, hair pulling, asphyxiation, daddy kink, top!Lena, bottom!reader

Summary: months after a breakup, you bump into your ex. Though the relationship was filled with turmoil, and you’d long since believed you’d learnt some valuable lessons from it, it seems you’re not as strong to resist as you think.

A/n: this was originally going to be an enemies-to-lovers story but then a devilish creature crawled out from a dark corner of my room, muttered mean!Lena really seductively in my ear, and I was helpless to fight what came over me then...

It was foggy that Friday night. National city's streets pulsed with life as people filtered out of bars and clubs, only to move on to the next, then the next. When their wobbly steps turned solely to stumbling, they would wave their white flags and surrender to the night or, better yet, early morning. That, too, is what your plan had been - to wander aimlessly with a group of friends until your head spun and your feet hurt, till the sun rose from beneath skyscrapers and the morning breeze would snip away at the lingering effects of hard liquor and cheap beer. Those plans, however, had been wholly derailed when you made your way into a club, and tendrils of cold shivers made their way up your spine, forcing your gaze to flicker over the swarming sea of sweaty bodies, landing on one person.

If it were a year ago, a mousy smile could be caught stretched across your lips. A sudden timidness to being perceived by this goddess whom you'd once called your girlfriend may have even sent butterflies flittering low in your stomach. But a year ago, you were naive, blinded by flashing lights that coloured red, green and toxic, sweet.

You stood there, hand in hand, with a stray girl your group had adopted for the night, past feelings dwindling low in your stomach as your mind walked the line between now and then. Fear had the muscles in your stomach tensing, pupils dilating, and legs refusing to heed the commands of the arm tugging you towards the bar. The other emotion you harboured was similar in nature. However, it differed in that although its predecessor forced your legs to remain rooted, this successor wedged them closed to alleviate the quickening pulse, growing thick and lively.

Trying to ignore that even from a distance Lena's eyes had locked onto your every move with chilling precision, you elbowed your way to liquid relief. It had been your intention to leave after slinging back a few shots of watered-down vodka, but then came the shift - the subtle twist in your gut that made you courageous enough to entertain the attention you were receiving rather than cower away from it.

With a turn of your head and a feeling of which direction to turn in, you granted yourself a few moments to really take the CEO in. She appeared to have come straight from a business meeting, dressed in a navy suit, surrounded by white-collared men and women all fighting to gain recognition. And yet, she gave them nothing. She remained silent. Eyes cemented on the light sway of your hips and the shrinking space between you and the unknown body lurking beside you.

With each boom from the speakers and the accompanying shake of the floor, bodies morphed together until there was only Lena and the blur of scattered masses. The music died in your ears, reduced to a faint hum, and the constant pounding of the bass became secondary to the pounding of your heart. The beginning of a slow-motion step forward was attempted, the heel of your boot hitting the sticky floor before, "You want to dance?"

The spell was broken. Music assaulted your eardrums. The reek of alcohol polluted your nose, and calloused fingers brushed your elbow before a tall figure obstructed your view, sporting an aggravatingly hopeful smile.

"What?" you snapped, not realising how harsh your tone was until the man’s unabashed beam faltered. You tried again, this time softer. "It's loud in here. What did you say?"

There was a charming awkwardness to him. The way he rubbed a palm over the back of his neck and let out a nervous laugh made you feel bad for the guy.

"Come have a dance with me?" he asked, voice gruff but not entirely unpleasant.

The human blockade made it hard to gauge if Lena was still watching, and in the absence of her scrutinising glare, you allowed yourself to be led to the crowded dancefloor.

As the music flowed and your body moved, you let your mind wander. You thought back to the breakup and how the following months were spent re-wiring your brain, re-learning how to make decisions independently and cultivating a life centred around yourself. You’d told yourself it had been worth it. The freedom was blissful, and opportunities popped up where they had never seemed to before. But with the merriment came the bittersweet - evenings spent alone, men thinking they had free rein to eye fuck you and, occasionally, get handsy. A day didn't go by where you wouldn't crave the guidance and praise Lena bestowed. But more than anything, you missed the feeling of being wholly owned. It was that deep-rooted longing that had you looking back to Lena.

Despite not being in a relationship with the woman, the look she was shooting at the poor man behind you led you to believe her claim over you was still unconquered, and that single fact should have sent you running. But once again, strobing lights really did have a way of distorting things.

Her gaze remained fixed, and though it was unnerving, it was thrilling. Being with Lena was always like this. She was intense and stubborn and so damn territorial it spoke directly to the servile side of you in a way that nothing and no one else ever could. It made you desperate to bend to her will, no matter the costs. The only problem then was you weren’t hers to bend, and it became clear in that second that that needed to change.

You kept up the act, dancing as provocatively as stilettos would allow and laughing along to rehearsed pickup lines. The last straw for the fuming brunette came when a pair of hands snaked around your waist, pulling you back into a muscled torso, and a pathetic little jab touched your ass. Lena was up on her feet and charging towards you in no time.

"Hands off,” the older woman growled, digging her blunt nails into your forearm and yanking you forward.

"Take it easy.” The man tried to make a grab for you, but Lena beat him to it, stepping forward to shield you from his grasp. Instantly, he backed away, throwing his hands up. “I didn't know she was spoken for."

"Shut the fuck up." Lena was seething, her jaw clenched and her eyes vicious. “If you even think of you touching her again, I'll chop your dick off and feed it to you."

She didn't wait for a reply to come or give notice to the small crowd that had formed around the three of you. Instead, Lena hauled you into the bathroom in record time, practically threw you into an open stall door and pressed your front firmly against the wall.

"A few months, and you're already whoring yourself out,” came the surly voice from behind you. "Did you learn nothing?"

"I," you tried to answer, but a hand fell over your mouth, silencing you.

"You're disgusting,” she sneered. "What makes you think I care what you have to say?"

The palm over your lips was held tight. There was no space between slim fingers and no room to breathe from anywhere other than your nose. A woeful whimper arose from the back of your throat, sounding so pathetic heat rushed to your face and painted your cheeks pink.

The fact you knew, from experience, there was no way to get out of Lena's hold evaded you. From the surface level, it could be said you were under the assumption your sudden hike in mental strength extended to your physical. However, deep down, you knew the fight was what you and Lena needed. All that pent-up anger, resentment, and hunger required liberation, and together, that was something you always did well.

"You're so desperate, aren't you?" Lena snarled, lodging her foot between your heels and wedging them apart until you were spread open for her. "I bet if I reached into your panties, I'd find you soaked."

As predicted, the contentious grunt that heaved a puff of cool air out your nose and elbow to the gut sparked something primal in Lena. It forced her hand to the back of your neck, where she pushed your cheek harder into the wall and laid a stinging slap over your clothed cunt. The yelp that followed met a quick demise, cut off by bracketed fingers restricting your airways and survival instincts chose then to seek the help of your hands. They flailed about, aimlessly reaching out for Lena, begging her to stop or to give you more; you didn't know. All you knew was your mind's conflict.

The top half of your body fought hard, shoulders driving back and forth, whilst the bottom speedily submitted, rocking against the minimal pressure Lena's palm offered and greedily pushing down to gain more stimulation. It was all in vain, of course.

"Pathetic," she tutted, delivering another swift slap to your aching sex. "Little slut wants her pussy fucked?"

"Lena, please,” you quietly sobbed.

Swift as the wind, the brunette had your back to the wall, one hand gripping your jaw, the other holding your wrists above your head.

"Please, what?" she goaded, pushing your head up to work the blank space of your neck with not-so-gentle bites, topping them off with soothing licks.

"I d-don't know," you whined.

It wasn't far from the truth. Your mind was hazy from alcohol. You were letting your body lead you into something you knew you’d later regret. But the scariest thing was that it didn't frighten you at all how willing you were to throw months of hard work away. You knew what you wanted. The problem was grappling with whether it'd be a good idea to say the words out loud.

Your indecisiveness earned you a piercing pain that rang from the veins of your neck to the tiniest of capillaries in your toes. There was no way to see the irreparable damage done. Alas, there was no need. You felt the sharp edge of each tooth sink into your throat, marking you. The agony, however, was thankfully quashed seconds later as you received your second reprimand. Between the tearing of lace and Lena thrusting three fingers into your tight channel, there was no time to stop the ear-splitting moan that tumbled from your lips and bellowed over the bathroom stalls. The sound alone sent any remaining occupants fleeing in fits of laughter as your stomach sunk due to both mortification and arousal.

With Lena's new hand placement came the opportunity to use your hands again. Instead of using this as a chance to fight back, you pulled Lena up from the nook of your neck and hastily interlocked your lips together in a frenzied kiss. She reciprocated at first, then drew a sharp breath before pulling away. You attempted to chase her. However, you were woefully mistaken in thinking you had the authority to initiate such an act again. A brutal strike of curling fingers taught you that, alongside the smirk you witnessed when your eyes flew wide open and a shove to your neck forced the back of your head to collide with the wall. Lena wasn't shy with her pace after that. It was like she was adamant about proving how easy it was for her to drive you crazy.

Trailing fingers up your jaw to the back of your neck, Lena bundled your loose waves into a bun and tugged, forcing you to look into her blackened eyes as she frowned. "Do that again, and I'll bring you to the brink over and over again, then leave you here crying. Understand?"

You heeded the warning with fast nods and chants of 'yes, yes, yes', which seemed to please the brunette. She kept up her hurried movements, digits sliding rapidly up and down your hot canal, occasionally curling to stroke the rough patch of tissue that had you seeing stars.

The closer you got, the harder it was to remain still, and when Lena didn't stop your hips from matching the flow of her ministrations, you were beyond grateful. In fact, the move garnered reward, specifically a svelte hand moving south to knead your breasts. It turned out this was only a distraction from the nimble thumb readying itself for work. A swipe to your clit followed the next hit to your sweet spot, and before you knew what was happening, your stomach muscles were convulsing, and pangs of liquid heat soared through every vein in your body.

Your breaths were short and shallow. Lewd moans were given free rein to fill the four walls of the suffocating stall, and the thrumming bass coming from outside was being overtaken by the pulsing sound of blood pumping in your ears. Yet, somehow, through it all, you could still hear the shameful jabs Lena was throwing at you.

"I'm going to,” you began, only to be cut off by a stern voice.

"I don't think so, honey,” she interjected. “Who decides when you get to come?"

"Lena, oh god, Lena," you cried, squeezing around her fingers and trying to stop the tight coil in your gut from unfurling. "I can't!"

"Who tells you when you get to come?" Lena barked, slowing down.

Tears were welling in your eyes, giving shine to the stars interspersed across your vision.

"You!"

"Who?!" Lena sped up again, redoubled her efforts and slipped a fourth finger inside you, filling you so completely that your knees almost buckled beneath you. Even still, you weren't granted permission to release the strained muscles holding you from your orgasm.

"Fuck!" you screamed. A tear spilt down the side of your face, your jaw shook, and blood coated your tongue as you bit the inside of your cheek, tearing into the smooth flesh. “You do, Daddy!"

Just when you thought you might pass out, hot breath skimmed the shell of your ear, and Lena whispered the words that were your undoing.

"I want everyone to hear you. Come nice and hard for Daddy."

Finally, you let go. All the pent-up tension rushed to the surface like a tidal wave. It submerged you in a whirlpool of flooding pleasure that had you shouting out for Lena, begging her to hold you steady whilst you shook and shook for what felt like hours. Her arm was around you in no time, providing a lifeline to hold onto whilst her fingers kept you under, massaging soft tissue.

You stood there, mind numb, body useless, until the shudders passed, and Lena carefully pulled her fingers out of you. It wasn't until after feeling had returned to your legs and the strain of standing wasn't registering that you realised Lena was practically holding you up. Her arms were on your hips, and her body firmly pressed you to the wall, so there was no chance you'd keel over.

When your eyes met, you detected the slightest bit of worry, making your heart skip a beat, and that alone was why you didn't argue when the next thing she said was, "I'm taking you back to mine."

It wasn't so much a walk to the car; rather, Lena stormed through the club, dragging you alongside her before slamming you against the back door of the vehicle and kissing you silly. At first, you were taken aback. Her reluctance to do just this only minutes ago was still echoing between your legs. You shook it off and accepted the moment for what it was: fleeting. That was when the rain started to fall, and the drunken mob's laughter erupted into roars of childlike amusement, and for the first time in a while, you felt content.

You laughed and laughed and laughed, genuine bubbling girly giggles shaking your chest and vibrating between rain-kissed lips.

"I'm so screwed," you half-whispered, half-sighed, nestling your head into Lena's neck. And as the sky cried a fresh set of trickling tears that splattered off the car's window panes, you happily bled a few of your own.

"Mmm," the older woman hummed in agreement, kissing your temple lightly. “Yes, you are."

Tags: @anonslay @homo-oddity | Click here to be added to my tag list

#lena luthor x reader #lena luthor x you #lena luthor smut #lena luthor #supergirl cw #lena luthor fanfic #supergirl fanfiction

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thebestofoneshots · 8 months

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Gilded Constellations | wolfstar x reader

Series Masterlist | Previous episode

Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 7.1 K Warnings: none Prompt: The school is buzzing with excitement as the race aproaches, magical things are bound to happen. Some more magical than others, and some of a less magical nature, but more than magical regardless. This IS a wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it.

Chapter 11: Do ya?

October 3rd, 1976 - Sunday

The day of the race finally came, the school was buzzing with excitement. The quidditch captains had gotten some of the teachers to help after asking for the right permissions, and even Professor McGonagall was going to be among the judges since she had been an amazing player before her injury in her last year. Everyone in the school knew how good she’d been, a legend, in fact. So it only made the race even more exciting.

Only quidditch players from the different teams had been allowed to participate in the end, which meant only the fastest flyers of the school were going to be in the race. James had even gotten around to buying a small trophy that he’d be handing over to the winner. Sirius had already boastfully told him where he’d be placing it once he got it.

You woke up earlier than usual, the anticipation eating you up. James had borrowed an old quidditch uniform for you to wear, and Beth had helped you alter it, switching James’ last name for your own, and adding some patches she had you order on the magazine. “Good look charms,” she’d told you. Marlene was also getting ready beside you, she chose to wear only a very thick wool sweater, with a round pin Mary had given her.

From the Gryffindors, only 4 people had signed up, Marlene, Sirius, Gale Thomas and you, all of them incredibly good flyers. You’d asked Davis why she hadn’t entered the race, she mentioned something about preparing for the O.W.L.s early. And since you’d just been through that last year, you completely understood where she was coming from.

From the other teams, you’d heard some 7th years had also decided to join, Holden, Minho and Alexander Wood were among them. Once you were outside of the castle you saw crowds of students walking outside, they’d even made merchandise of you and the other competitors. The small girl that’d asked you to teach her how to do a backflip was wearing a pin with your face on it that said something along the lines of “(Y/N) is the fastest flyer of the school,” and she waved at you, giving you a thumbs up while you walked towards the finish line, the little girl you’d helped in your first day, the one who’s ring you had rescued, stood beside her, with a small flag that said “GO (Y/N)!”.

Some kids had made posters, you saw one from some 3rd years that had Marlene’s and your name on it, along with two little stick figures flying around the castle really fast. But Gryffindors weren’t the only supporters you had, Sybil and Nina, from Ravenclaw, both had a pin similar to the one the small Gryffindor girl was wearing and they were sitting together with their own little poster. And even Imogen, who had also opted out of the race, had one pin with Alexander’s face and another with Sirius, Marlene and you.

As for Sirius, being the heartthrob that he was, had tons of posters, and pins, and you swore you saw a girl with a sweater with his face on it. It is definitely going to get to his head, you thought as you walked towards the competitors’ tent, broom in hand. Sirius hadn’t come out yet, and Marlene was walking next to you. Minho and Holden were already in there, both waved to you and Marlene when they spotted you. They also had their fair quantity of posters and memorabilia scattered all over the crowd. Minho maybe had as many as Sirius, and it wasn’t strange, he was just as much of a heartthrob as your friend. Alex arrived later, and you waved to him with a smile, he walked straight towards you.

“You’re quite popular,” he said with raised eyebrows “Rumours travel really fast, don’t they? Should’ve asked for your autograph the day I brought you back to the school.”

You chuckled, “Don’t stress too much about it, I’ll always have discounted autographs for you.” You joked back. The two of you were laughing together when Sirius finally arrived. He had put his hair up in a ponytail, some of the shorter strands of his hair were framing his face, the girl with his sweater alongside her friends fawned over him as he walked beside them, same, you thought as you stared at him. Gale was behind him, not causing as much of a commotion as Sirius, but still holding his fair share of cheers. When Sirius walked into the tent, he had a smirk plastered on his face.

“Being pretty is not going to make you any faster,” Alex joked.

“Maybe,” Sirius said cockily “but it sure feels good to be cheered for the loudest,” his smirk growing with his answer, that got a laugh from everyone.

You leaned in towards Marlene and whispered “Attention whore.”

Marlene giggled, nodding in agreement “The biggest of us.” Sirius talked to Minho and some older boys from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff you hadn’t yet met.

Imogen had popped inside the tent at some point, even if she wasn’t going to participate in the race, she still had that Quidditch Team member privilege “Feeling ready?” She asked you and Marlene.

“Born ready,” you replied confidently. You were happily talking to her when you saw someone walk in the tent. His hair long, framing his face, wearing green from head to toe, and with a brand new-looking broom, Regulus.

The minute he saw you he walked towards you, with the intention of saying hello, he hoped that now you and Sirius were better off, you wouldn’t be so hostile towards him. He hoped wrong.

“(Y/N),” he said, politely approaching you. You looked at him, not saying a word, “How– How’ve you been? I.. ‘ve been meaning to–“

“–Regulus,” he shut up the moment you spoke. “We’re not friends. Stop trying to talk to me,” you said before awkwardly nodding and walking towards Sirius and the boys. Regulus looked at you, hurt evident in his eyes, Marlene gave him a pitiful look and went back to her conversation with Imogen. She was telling her how this boy from the Gryffindor Tower had made a bunch of the pins and posters people had worn to support them.

Once you arrived you stood between Sirius and Minho, a boy who you hadn’t met spoke “So… this is your famous keeper?” He had silver hair and wore blue robes. You smiled at him politely.

“This is Lionel Aldrige,” said Minho, “Ravenclaw’s Captain, and keeper.”

“Nice to meet you,” you said, extending your hand.

He took it in his, he had a firm grip “Nice to meet you too, (Y/N), I’ve heard plenty of you.”

You smiled, “Hope all good.”

He nodded “I’d go as far as to say you’ve got your own little fan club in the Ravenclaw tower, I’m excited to finally see you fly.”

“I won’t disappoint,” you said with a wink.

Sirius cleared his throat and placed an arm over your shoulders, You raised an eyebrow at his reaction, but he ignored it, making himself comfortable, “‘Course she won’t. She’s ours,” he said pointing to his red and yellow sweater.

That’s when James walked in, alongside Dimitry and Delilah Moss, the Hufflepuff captain “Lionel!” Shouted Dimitry “We need to talk.”

After talking between themselves for a second, they came back, Delilah and Lionel pushed a table with a cloth on top covering something towards you and the rest of the competitors “Gather ‘round!” She said.

James smiled and grabbed a piece of parchment, “Simple rules: No intentional hexes or courses, no grabbing a competitor’s broom, no unauthorised shortcuts, stay on the designated course and for the love of god, wear your safety gear and avoid collisions with each other. This is not quidditch. I know some of you are used to playing rough, but this is about flying ability and speed, so save those moves for the games.”

“Sorry, James,” said Gale “But… I believe we don’t know what the designated course is.”

James smiled “I was really hoping you’d ask that,” he said before pulling the cloth and revealing a small 3D version of the castle. 4 small balls of red, green, yellow and blue, going through different sections of Hogwarts, all following the same path.

“We have placed several light halos all over the course we designed,” started Delilah “You will have to pass through each and every one of them whenever you spot it. Unless you’ve passed through them all, you will not count as a winner, even if you get to the finish line first. It won’t be an easy task, we’ve made sure of it. We’re not only testing your km/h, we’ll be also testing how quick you can react to things happening around you, so expect setbacks.”

“Some halos will be easier than others,” added Dimitry “Keep an eye out for the harder ones. The race will have a total of 3 laps around the castle. It means you’ll have to follow this path,” he said pointing at the bright lights on the 3D model “at least 3 times before you finish. If you miss a halo, that means you’ll have to do another lap to get it.”

“Any questions?” Asked Lionel with a bright smile.

“Are there any specific penalties for breaking the rules?" Asked a Slytherin boy, who you quickly identified as Barty Crouch Jr. the kid that hated your guts after you broke his nose with a quaffle.

“You break them, you’re out of the race,” Delilah said sternly.

“But, how would you know if we did,” asked a taller boy next to Barty, with ashy blonde hair, handsome, but dangerous looking.

“Rosier,” Dimitry warned, “we do not cheat in my team.”

The boy raised his hands in defeat, an amused look on his face, he was looking forward to Dimitry leaving the next year.

"Do we have to pass through the halos in a specific order?" Asked a Hufflepuff girl you didn’t recognize.

“Yes, you miss one, you have to do another lap to get it,” Alex responded “Any other questions?”

You shook your head, but then smirked and raised your hand “Yeah,” you said confidently “When do we start?”

James looked at you, looking slightly impressed by your boldness, he wanted that kind of confidence in the next Quidditch match.

“We start now,” Delilah said with a smile and motioned for you to walk out. More people had piled around the starting line, and they cheered as you and all the competitors walked out. Looking around, you realised there was even more merchandise going around now. Most students just had something themed after their house, but a good deal of them had some of those same pins and flags and posters with your faces on them.

You turned to Marlene with a shrug “How did that happen?”

“Johnny Ackley,” she told you.

You shrugged, remembering the name “Same kid with an illegal brewery hidden in his room?”

“Imogen told me he says he’s an entrepreneur,” she explained “She said she thinks we should all charge him a fee for using our faces without permission.” She then pointed at the crowd “he’s clearly making a good buck from it.”

You shrugged “I’m just really curious… How did he get pictures of us? I mean, you all make sense but, I’ve been here for like, a month?”

Marlene smiled, “It seems you’re gonna have to accept the fact that you’re popular now.”

You laughed “I guess I’ll be when I win.”

“Second place, you mean?” She asked with a smile. And the two of you chuckled.

Suddenly Dimitry’s voice boomed, amplified by his wand, “Contestants, on your marks!”

You winked at Marlene and walked towards the line that had your name on it. You could easily see the first bright light halo in front of you. Sirius was next to you on the line-up, and Minho stood on the other side. Both already mounting their brooms.

“Positions!” He said. Everyone kicked the floor and started hovering about half a metre above the ground, “The race starts when you see the sparks.”

The four team captains arranged themselves in a line, parallel to you and the rest of the competitors. They all raised their wands, and in an instant, sparks from the colour of their houses left their wands at once. You sped up straight towards the first halo, that’d you stopped earlier on and flew right by it. Suddenly it went from white to red, you’d been the first one to reach it.

“(Y/N) takes the lead of the race with an unprecedented acceleration towards the first halo!” You heard someone’s voice, starting to narrate what was happening. You were not aware you’d have a narrator.

But you paid no mind to it, to anything really, you were focused on darting as fast as you could towards the next halo, that you saw just a couple of metres above the courtyard. It was still white, which meant, you were still at the head, you smiled at the thought.

Out of nowhere, you saw a bright flash of red pass by you, Marlene had surpassed you, and she was first to cross the next halo. You smirked and picked up some more speed, swiftly going round the astronomy tower, beating her to the next one. You saw a flash of green to your side, the handsome but dangerous Slytherin boy surpassed you. He’s fast, you thought, but not as fast as me.

You leaned in closer to the broom, to reduce the friction, and darted past him like an arrow. Claiming the first spot yet again. Sirius caught up with you quickly “On your left,” he said before he dived straight toward the floor, getting the next halo first. You smiled, shaking your head before catching up to him.

“Was it fun while it lasted?” you asked him with a smirk as you passed him and took the next halo.

The race was tight, you could hear the way the brooms from your peers whistled as they coursed through the air at such high speeds. Regulus passed you a couple of times, but you regained your spot every single one of them. By the end of the first lap, you were still at the head of the race.

When you passed the finish line, all the halos were reset to white, ready for the contestants to pass through them as fast as possible, but things were slightly different now, thick stormy clouds had piled on one side of the castle.

“Competitors look more than ready to take up the second part of the race!” the commentator said excitedly “Be careful, things may not be as easy as they were previously.”

Those whims of the weather were not natural, which meant the captains had probably created them as part of their setbacks. The minute you crossed the first hoop you felt strong wind throwing you back. And not only that, but the atmosphere was becoming foggy too. You turned your head to James, who was casually looking up at you from where he was, he didn’t even have to see your face to tell you were giving him a reproachful look about it, so he shrugged in response, a playful smile appearing on his face.

You exhaled, shaking your head before looking up ahead again, the wind was very strong, barely letting you move at all, even as you tried flying full speed. Sirius and Holden, who were much taller and heavier than you, used that to their advantage and overtook you. Marlene was fighting the wind a couple metres to your side and the Hufflepuff girl that you’d met earlier was behind the two of you.

Pushing through was not going to be enough, you had to find another way to get out of the air current. When Minho passed by, you moved straight behind him, using his weight and height to your favour, you flew as close as possible to him, so you could actually move ahead. Marlene and the Hufflepuff girl took your example and did the exact same thing with two other boys that were passing by them.

“You having fun there?” Minho asked.

You laughed “Got a good view of that back all the girls fawn over,” you replied.

“Do they?” He asked with a smirk, that you couldn’t really see.

“As if you didn’t know,” you replied. Once the wind started to die down you accelerated again, flying next to Minho for a second. “Thanks for that love!” you said before passing by and launching yourself behind Holden and Sirius, who were fighting for the first spot.

Minho just laughed and accelerated behind you too, not quite enough to surpass you, but still trailing behind you just a little. The weather was now turning foggy, and you could hear the thunder approaching, or rather, you were the one rapidly approaching it. In between the fog, you spotted one of the white halos and dived straight towards it. Sirius and Holden, who were just a couple of metres ahead of you, saw it. The halo a lot clearer now than it was earlier since it had turned red.

You smiled “You can still go back and not fall behind that much,” you shouted at the two.

“Yeah, we’d only be falling behind you, wouldn’t we?” Asked Holden as he took a sharp turn back and flew past you in the other direction.

“Not my fault you boys are blind,” you said waving at Sirius with a smile as he passed by you, straight towards Holden. You took your chance and accelerated as much as possible, hoping to leave the boys behind.

When you entered the rain you gasped, the droplets were so cold it might as well have been snow, your googles started fogging up, so you passed your sleeve over them to clean them, spotting another one of the Halos a couple of metres in front of you, next to one of the windows of the astronomy tower. But then you heard the thick rumbling of thunder and saw a lighting bolt shoot straight next to your right. You flew sidewards as it almost fell on your face, and then another bolt shot through your left, giving you little to time to react “Fucking hell Potter!” You shouted, even if no one could hear you, with the thick rain and the rumbling of thunder “What the fuck were you thinking when you planned this race?!”

You finally managed to pass through the halo and sped to the next one near the top. At some point you heard someone scream, the Hufflepuff girl had been hit by a lightning bolt a couple of metres behind and she was falling. You looked at her preoccupied and took your wand out “arresto momentum,” you shouted, same spell Lily had used on you a couple of weeks back. The girl stopped falling for a second and then went back, only a couple of feet down. You heard a cry of pain as she fell on her wrist, and you were about to fly towards her when you spotted some people were already running towards her. You gulped and went back to the race. That could’ve been you.

As you continued flying, you finally out flew the lighting, apparently it was only near the spot of that particular halo. But the rain was still heavy and the wind was still blowing, cold against your skin. You narrowed your eyes when you saw another halo, just above the forbidden forest, near the spot where you’d found and helped Fang. You dived towards it and did a sharp turn ahead right before hitting one of the trees. As you out flew the rain, the cold wind made you shiver, but you pushed through, you were determined to win this race. If there was something you just couldn’t shake off, it was how competitive you were.

Another halo shone brightly over one of the towers, and you launched yourself upwards as fast as possible, being beaten by none other than Barty. When he crossed the halo it turned green but then turned maroon. You passed right behind, catching up to him. “You missed that one,” you said pointing to the one above the trees “You’re gonna have to do another lap.”

He looked at you with loathing, and flew towards you really fast, if he wasn’t going to win, you weren’t either. Thankfully you were faster, and instead of playing along, you decided to launch forward towards the finish line, leaving Barty behind. Once you crossed it, some sparks flew by, you’d been the first one to reach it, one more time. “And (Y/N)’s speed knows no bounds! Even after falling behind due to the strong wind, she’s still at the head of the race.”

One more lap, you thought, Just one more. The rain and the thunder were gone, and you easily flew through a couple of halos before you realised where they were taking you. All the halos that you could see were all darting into one direction, and one direction only: The Forbidden Forest.

You were still going through the halos as fast as possible, but hesitated when one of them led you straight through a dark circle of trees in the forest. Holden was the one to pass you this time, followed by Sirius who smiled at your hesitance “You scared?” He teased as he buzzed by.

You smiled, that was all the convincing you needed “Just giving you some advantage!” You shouted at him as you followed closely behind. You were flying just by Sirius' side, the two of you moving like clockwork when you had to take a sharp turn or move up and down when thicker branches approached. You saw shadows in the threes as you buzzed by, eyes staring from the distance. James had warned some of the creatures he knew there’d be people flying by, and they were all watching the race just as gleefully as the wizards were.

“Why are you still tailing me? Scared of going deeper into the forest by yourself?” Sirius teased further.

You smiled, “Was just keepin’ ya company,” you said before flying over a thick branch and overtaking him, “but I guess I’ll comply to your wish and take over.”

Sirius smiled at your trick and rounding over a tree he took the lead again “You were saying?”

You chuckled lightly, and continued flying closely, the two of you constantly overtaking each other to take the lead. The coordination the two of you had together in the air, made you look like you had practised and planned it before, reality was, the two of you had flown together so many times by then, that you could pretty much predict his movements, and he could do the same to yours. Even in the middle of the race, in the middle of the Forbidden Forest, that was absolutely terrifying to you since those nightmares started happening, you were having fun. In fact, you were absolutely thrilled.

So focused on each other you didn’t even notice the moment you left the thick woods, and went back to the school grounds, allowing the two of you to pick up the pace once more. You saw Holden, who’d passed the two of you earlier and turned to Sirius “Pleasure flying alongside you, as always,” you said, giving him the classic navy salute before flying as fast as possible towards Holden. Towards the whomping willow.

Sirius looked at the Halo in between the branches and his diverted expressions suddenly turned awry “She doesn’t know what the tree is,” he whispered to himself and tried to catch up with you. When he finally managed, you were already entering the range of the tree. “(Y/N),” he screamed “Whomping Willow!”

You turned to him with a diverted smile, was he trying to trick you to slow down? There was no way there was a whopping willow on Hogwarts grounds. It was too dangerous. “Sure thing Sirius, and watch out for the troll behind you!” You replied with a smile.

Sirius looked at you worried as a thick branch shot straight towards you, the tree wasn’t holding itself back. And you were not looking ahead, you were looking at him. So he did the only thing he could think of, he flew as close as possible to you and threw himself at you, pushing the two of you off your brooms.

The moment you fell off your broom, you were shocked since you saw the thick branch hit your Dark Nimbus and Sirius’ Sweepfire, splitting the first one in two and sending the latter, along with the pieces of yours flying, further away, deeper inside the forest. When you fell to the floor the two of you rolled down the hill for a couple of metres before finally stopping. Sirius was still holding you tightly, even as you lay out of the Whomping Willow’s reach.

You could hear his heart drumming in his chest as you tried to regain your breath “Pourquoi es-tu tellement foutrement têtu?” He asked in between thick breaths, why are you so fucking stubborn?, thank god you spoke french.

You were still on top of him when you used your arms to push yourself upwards, to see him better, removing your goggles in a swift motion and frowning as you spoke “You– you saved me… You could’ve used the advantage, Sirius, you could’ve won the race!”

“For what? You would’ve been unfairly eliminated, it wouldn’t have meant anything.”

“You would’ve won against everyone else!” You spat back, matter of factly “Or… did you only care about beating me?” You asked frown deepening, did he still harbour animosity after what’d happened years ago?

Sirius’ hair was sprawled on the floor, he was looking at you with worry still, it looked beautiful on him. “Well duh, I’m only in this race because it was your idea in the first place!”

You looked taken aback by that, pulling your head just a little. What did he just say? “Sirius you… Are you still angry about what happened back then?”

“What? NO!” He scowled, squeezing his eyes shut for a second.

“I don’t understand–“

“–I bIoody well fancy you, alright!?” He confessed, voice loud, dripping with emotion “I fucking liked you when we met and I still like you now, and it’s eating me alive, I can’t get you out of my bIoody head and it’s consuming me whole!”

You stared at him for a second, he was already regretting what he said, thinking maybe he could play it out as a joke, even if it were a bad-taste one. But you weren’t about to reject him, you were trying to process what had happened. And so, instead of replying, you did the only natural thing you could, and leaned in to kiss him. He was surprised for a mere second before following the kiss, desperately. You were both desperate for each other, two years of pent-up emotions were finally being let out.

The second kiss you gave Sirius Black was nothing and everything like the first one. His lips were as soft as you remembered, his hair, since he’d been on the rainy parts of the race, was just as wet, and he still tasted of mint, but that was about where the similarities ended. You’d both grown, you’d both only seen each other in dreams for years, and even if you’d kissed him several times in those, none of those kisses had felt like this one.

Sirius was bigger and stronger now, his muscles tensed beneath you, his jaw sharper, the idea of a five o’clock shadow barely perceptible, brushing through your soft skin. And you were soft, so bIoody soft. As you lay atop of him, Sirius couldn’t quite believe how tender you were, even more than he remembered, softer than you had been in his dreams. He didn’t let go of you as you continued to kiss, only placing his hands over your waist, tightening his grip when your tongues finally crossed paths. You moved your hands towards his hair, toying with it as your lips danced together.

The two of you split apart due to the imminent need of oxygen, staring at each other between heavy breaths for a second, Sirius’ pupils were blown out, lips pink and slightly swollen, you could feel the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he breathed beneath you, and you smiled, looking at him with a mischievous air before leaning in to kiss him again. Succumbing to an euphoria he had long yearned for, he tightened his grip around you and turned the two of you around, letting your hair fall gently over the grass as he used one of his forearms to keep the entirety of his weight from crushing you. You smiled, almost laughing at how desperate he seemed, he was as thirsty for your lips as you had been for his. So long, you thought, why on earth hadn’t you done this before?

Sirius was a better kisser than you remembered, you moved your hands –that had ended up on his chest when he turned you around– further up, letting his soft hair entangle between your fingers, his ponytail gone at some point, perhaps during the race, perhaps as you kissed him over and over again. The moment you pushed him closer to you, a chill ran through Sirius’ body and he deepened the kiss, wishing to drown in you. He wasn’t sure there were enough kisses in this world to quench his long-contained thirst.

You heard a faint blow of a cannon and cheers erupted from a far away crowd. You separated from him, lips parted and heavy breaths as you looked into his bright bluish-grey eyes “I think we lost,” you breathed out.

He stared at you for a second and shook his head as he said “I don’t think we lost anything.” He then planted a short kiss on your lips. You smiled and then laughed as he let himself fall on the ground beside you.

“We’re literally the reason the race was even made in the first place,” you told him as you stared at the sky, now icy blue, just like his eyes. Some of the shadow from the Whomping Willow’s branches tracing patterns along your skin.

“They can suck it,” he said with a smile, the two of you laughed again. Sirius’s hand reached for yours, you could feel his rings brushing over your skin as your fingers intertwined.

“We really should do races more often,” you told him with a smile, “neither of us wins in the end, but–”

Sirius laughed “–We always end up making out.”

“Does this mean we’re a thing now?” You asked casually.

He smiled cockily at your question “You think I’d let you go now that I can kiss you when I please?”

You chuckled “Good!” The air between the two of you felt heavy, but reassuring, the silence was somehow comforting, but you broke it nonetheless “Can I still call you Puppy?”

Sirius frowned “Of course not!”

“And what if I give you a kiss for every time I call you that?” You asked with a smirk.

Sirius turned to you impressed. “If you kiss me like today, you can call me whatever the hell you please starshine.”

You laughed at his answer but nodded “Excellent.”

You stayed like that for a while, hands intertwined, listening to each other's breaths. You raised your hand along with his, admiring how the two of them looked together before you took a deep breath and spoke “We should probably go back. They’ll start looking for us.”

“What about your broom?”

You frowned and pointed towards the forest “The pieces flew off in that direction. Yours seemed to be whole. They can’t be too far.”

“Accio Sweepfire!” Sirius said, using his free hand to wave his wand towards the forest, nothing happened.

“Accio Dark Nimbus!” you said then, the top part of your broom came flying by, the sweeping part did not, “They must be stuck somewhere.”

“I’ll get them,” he said standing up “Wait for me here, yeah?” You nodded, and reluctantly let go of his hand. Watching him as he went deep into the forest. You smiled and let yourself fall to the ground with a long sigh.

Sirius had turned into a dog the moment he stepped into the forest, using his great sense of smell to find his broom and the rest of yours faster. He found his first, and went back into human form to grab the other side of yours, while flying. He did it all in a matter of minutes and flew back to where he’d left you. He smiled when he saw you lying on the grass, with your eyes closed, just enjoying the moment, he hovered over you, using his hand to cast a shadow over your eyes, so that the sun wouldn’t disturb you. You opened your eyes and smiled when you realised what he was doing “Found it?”

He nodded, and showed you the bottom side of your broom, so much for the fastest broom in the world. “I don’t think it’s got any repairing.”

“No shit Sherlock,” you responded as you stood up, the other side of the broken handle held tightly in your hand. He motioned for you to join him as he hovered very close to the floor.

You passed your hand over the handle of his broom, it was worn, but didn’t seem like it’d gotten too damaged with the blow, your broom had probably absorbed most of the punch, you sighed and mounted it behind him. You casually placed a hand over his shoulder, as you accommodated the pieces of your nimbus in between the two of you.

“You should grab on tighter, we wouldn’t want you to fall again,” Sirius said with a smirk.

You rolled your eyes but complied, closing the gap between the two of you and practically hugging him from behind, you then leaned your head over his shoulder and whispered “Don’t test your luck, Black.”

Sirius smiled at your answer and glided forward in his broom, very fast, straight towards the end of the finish line. When you two arrived people looked relieved. Rumour was going around that you’d actually gotten hit by the Whomping Willow, and that you both laid unconscious somewhere in the forest.

“They’re all right!” Someone shouted when they spotted you, pointing straight at you in the air, some of the other competitors were already preparing to go in your search.

When the two of you landed close to the finish line, James approached, a guilty-looking expression filled his face “You alright?”

“No thanks to you,” Sirius spat “The Whomping Willow? Really!?”

James looked to the side, distressed “It was Dimity’s idea,” James tried to explain “I didn’t think there was anything wrong with it, it would’ve been a great trial for flying reflexes. And everyone in the school knew about it…”

“Yeah, except for me.” You told him, raising both parts of your broken broom in the air for him to see.

He cringed when he realised how broken they were. “I’m sorry,” he said guiltily. “Did it… did it hit you?”

You shook your head “Sirius was fast enough to catch up with me and throw me off my broom before it hit it.” You explained “We were both at the lead, well, Holden was ahead of us… Sirius would’ve probably won if–“

“–You would’ve won,” Sirius corrected. “Had it not been for the tree, you would have overtook Holden in seconds.”

James looked at the two of you puzzled, you’d been fighting over who was the best and the fastest for weeks, and now you just… gave each other the win? “I should’ve warned you.”

“I should’ve been looking ahead,” you said, trying to ease James’ from the guilt that was clearly eating him up “I was so busy boasting that I wasn’t looking at my path… It’s true I didn’t expect a Whomping Willow but , it wasn’t entirely your fault.” You said in a serious tone, but changed to a more animated one “But the race was insane, the lighting and the weather changes, how did you even get permission for it? It was brilliant!”

“We didn’t,” he admitted “All the captains have bathroom cleaning duty for 2 weeks because of what happened to Matilda.”

“The Hufflepuff girl?” You asked concerned “Is she alright? I saw her fall, heard her scream.”

James nodded “She told us about your spell. Her broom was struck, but she wasn’t.”

“We made sure no contestant would get struck by them,” Delilah intervened. While it was true that the lightning had been following you around on that spot of the race, it never seemed to hit you in particular.

“They were charmed,” you concluded.

James nodded and continued “Thanks to you taking the time to save her, she only broke her wrist. She should be back in shape soon.”

“But the quidditch lineup was altered,” proceeded Lionel, who had also walked towards you “Hufflepuff won’t be playing on the first match. Which means-“ he looked at Sirius and then at you “we’ll be playing each other.”

By then Lily, Marlene and Mary had rushed towards you too, pushing people around to get to where you both stood. You saw Remus jogging behind them too. Lily was the first one to jump on you, placing both of her hands over your arms "Are you all right?" She asked, voice laced with concern, carefully scanning your face and then all of your body.

"Yeah," you nodded. "Sirius pushed me off the broom before the tree got to it,” you explained again, "he also broke most of the fall,” you added when she looked at you with apprehension.

"What about this?" She asked, pulling your hair back and running her finger over a small cut you’d gotten in your cheek, you winced.

"Must have gotten it when we rolled down the hill," you shrugged “I hadn’t noticed I had it.”

She nodded, finally letting go of you and turning to the longed-haired boy "And you Sirius?"

He smiled at her concern "I’m all right, thanks Evans… A little scratched up and beaten down, but… I saved the girl, and it was definitely worth it.”

You snorted lightly at that, most people didn’t notice, but one person did, Remus. He hadn’t taken his eyes off the two of you since he spotted you. And he noticed something was definitely different between the two. The tension, it was gone, replaced by something else, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.

The announcer mentioned something about you and Sirius being alright, and how it was finally time for the lineup, which reminded you “That’s right? Who won?” The air seemed to turn a little uncomfortable, like no one wanted to mention it.

Finally, Mary answered “It was Regulus,” she said somberly, but then pointed at one of your friends with a smile “Marlene got second and Minho was third.”

You looked around, spotting Regulus in the distance, being congratulated by all of his friends, and even some other people. He seemed almost popular. If they knew the kind of snake he was, you thought, before turning to Marlene with a huge smile, “Congratulations!”

She smiled at that “If you hadn’t–“

“–NO! Marlene, you're brilliant! I saw you…” you said and placed a hand on her shoulder, pushing her slightly towards you so you could whisper something in her ear “You’re the best beater of the team, remember?”

She smiled brightly at that, and winked before following James towards the makeshift podium where he’d hand in the trophy he bought and some medals the other captains had gotten.

Regulus seemed genuinely happy when James handed the trophy to him, and he was, Walburga would be so proud he beat his brother in the race, she might actually stop pestering him about the DeathEater ritual. When it was Marlene’s turn, and Lionel placed a medal over her shoulders, you couldn’t stop clapping, you saw some camera flashes taking pictures, and realised Alex was taking some of them. You smiled and wondered what place he’d gotten, and felt a little sad you wouldn’t be playing against him in the next game.

Once the whole ceremonial thing was over, everyone started walking back to the castle. Regulus looked like he wanted to approach you, but when your eyes locked on each other you turned your head and smiled at Lily, and Mary, since you’d been talking to them. Regulus nodded, turning his head and walking back to the common room along with Barty, and Evan, who were still cheering on him.

“When we just couldn’t get past those strong winds and you straight up used Minho as a windbreaker, that was brilliant!” Marlene said with a smile. “How did you even think of it?”

You shrugged “We weren’t gonna beat them unless we did something, could’ve used our wands for a propelling spell, but I wasn’t sure it was allowed, then Minho passed by me, and you know how he’s got these really big strong shoulders? So I thought, hey! I could use that.”

“Big strong shoulders, huh?” Remus teased.

You looked at him with a little smile “Objectively speaking, yeah,” you responded.

Mary nodded in agreement “I heard some girls fawning over them in the bathrooms, and paid a closer look next time he was around. (Y/N) is right. He’s got big strong shoulders.”

“He does,” added Marlene, eyeing him from behind, “Like a Dorito.”

Everyone laughed at her comment. Sirius, who had gone off earlier came back “Who’s like a Dorito?”

“Minho, with his sexy back,” Remus responded casually, and added, “according to the girls.”

Sirius raised his eyebrows and looked at you “Does he?”

You looked at him with a smile and decided to tease him “Oh yeah, definitely.”

“And you like big strong backs, don’t you?” he pressed.

You laughed at that, Sirius was definitely smaller than Minho, but he was way prettier, at least in your eyes “I wouldn’t know, I don’t really focus on those things. I’m more of a pretty face kind of person.”

Lily laughed at that “I can attest to it,” she agreed. Eventually, your group also went back to the castle, everyone smiling and merrily talking about the race, everyone was fine, everyone was happy.

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kedsandtubesocks · 29 days

Text

seasons of you (year 1 - winter)

Blacksmith!Frankie Morales x F!Reader

summary: your first winter in the valley brings in a frosty breeze & a push towards a certain blacksmith

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI, stardew valley AU, reader is a farmer & has a family but no physical description, shy & sweet!Frankie, major pining & yearning, friends to something more, Frankie being previously married/a bit secretive about his life, gift exchange as love language, use of nickname (Frankie calls reader “little farmer” affectionately but it’s no reflection on reader’s size), blooming romance

word count: 5.6k

a/n: we’ve arrived to Frankie’s first piece in our Stardew AU series! We’re starting ‘in the middle of things’ & it’s meant to show how slow/shy our relationship with Frankie unfolds that romance just starts rolling now, plus I needed Frankie’s story to begin this way so something else can maybe unfold in year two but that’s all I’m gonna saying lol, again couldn’t have done this without @lowlights @swiftispunk @perotovar & @burntheedges you babes are my guiding stars always and I’m eternally grateful. And to you, if you’re reading this, thank you too lovely

Snow crunches under your boots and the chilly air seeping through your coat feels different. This would be your first serious winter storm and you already sense it approaching.

Yanking open the blacksmith’s door, a wave of heat washes over and you sigh.

Thankfully Frankie’s shop is still open and you almost cry relieved.

“Sorry!” You apologize walking further towards the counter. “I know there’s five minutes left before closing, but I just wanted to swing by!”

You wanted to pick up your newly forged ax before the storm hit and of course…

You wanted to see him.

Autumn kept you so busy with the farm and the fall festival. Now you hope to see more of your favorite blacksmith.

Waiting for him, your eyes wander.

The shop, with its eternal flame flickering, holds so much personality in its walls. A military pilot flag hangs by the front. The low radio plays a soft rock ballad. A bulletin board by the side of the counter is covered in various flyers and photos. Your favorite snapshots are one of a smiling little baby girl with sweet chubby cheeks you still haven’t gotten to ask Frankie who she is. There’s another photo of a group of men in military uniform.

It’s all so familiar and welcoming now.

With all the time in the mines, you wonder if maybe your pickaxe needs work too. Sliding your backpack off, you examine your trusty tool. Worn, but not weathered, the steel speaks of the craftsmanship and skill of the blacksmith who first forged it for you.

“You waiting for that tool to do something or should I leave you two alone?”

Frankie.

You fight back a smile when his warm deep teasing voice floats in.

Frankie wasn’t this easy going with you at first. He kept his distance, was polite but rather reserved.

“He’s just shy. He was like that when I first moved in too,” Leah, your closest friend here in the valley, reassured you one night at the saloon.

Now those beautiful gem eyes of Francisco Morales blaze straight at you as he walks towards the counter. Wearing his trademark baseball cap you playfully glare at him.

“I’m just checking to see if I need to complain to my blacksmith about my pickaxe needing work.” You quip back to him.

“Oh well shit, thank god that isn’t me.” Frankie smirks and you snort at his comment.

Frankie reminds you of the flames and steel he works with. Hard working and gently intense, yet a warmth gleams beneath him and fills an entire room just like the heat from his kilns.

“You just had to come in five minutes before I closed huh?” Frankie sighs dramatically.

You think he’s teasing but guilt still strikes you quick. Rambling out apologies, you scramble to explain how it’s mainly for precaution with the storm coming.

“I can always come back later!” You urge panicking.

He chuckles, cozily deep, and you sputter to a stop.

“I kid little farmer, I kid.”

That nickname he so casually gave to you just this month sparks an electric warmth through your entire body. You weakly laugh back, not able to fully process a reply.

Frankie’s gorgeous features, his striking nose, and his warm eyes disarm you in a way that makes your knees want to fold.

He moves around the tables and workbenches to pull out your ax.

“There it is!” You happily cheer.

Frankie even playfully shows off the sleek new tool like he’s a hostess in a daytime game show and you clap appreciatively while you laugh. It surprises you how silly sometimes Frankie can be.

Moving back to the counter he places your ax onto it. Then he leans towards you and begins explaining what upgrades he did.

You should be listening, but you can’t. Not with him leaning so close to you.

You’ve had an embarrassing crush on Frankie since the first moment Mayor Lewis introduced you to him. But with how busy you’ve been settling into the valley, along with how shy and reserved Frankie is, your feelings simply have stayed crystallizing inside you.

Frankie’s diligent eyes are so focused on his work and it’s beautiful. He’s beautiful. How dedicated he is to his craft, how quietly passionate he is, you yearn to fall into him more.

Suddenly Frankie’s eyes flicker up and catch you staring at him. In a panic your gaze snaps down to your tool.

“Yup! Looks like it can still cut a tree! Good job, Morales.” You lamely reply and Frankie snorts.

You do sincerely thank him and even offer to get him coffee for making him stay this late.

Frankie waves you off casually. “Maybe next time, besides you gotta get home before the storm hits.”

He’s right. There's still so much you need to do before the night comes. The clatter of Frankie slowly shutting everything down for the night draws you out of your thoughts.

“Do you need any help?” You offer.

“Nah, I’m good. Plus I don’t need your pretty hands getting burned.” Frankie replies back.

Although he’s not looking at you, his sly compliment sends a spark through your body.

Scrambling to put your ax in its guard and then shoving it into your backpack, you thank Frankie again and plan to quietly leave.

“Wait!” Frankie suddenly calls out and you freeze.

“Wait, don’t head out yet. Let me walk you home.”

The chill from outside settles into the shop now that the fires are extinguished. Yet, Frankie’s words ignite a dizzying heat.

“Oh no it’s okay!” You quickly stammer out as a nervous energy spikes in you.

You know he lives besides the forge. It wouldn’t make sense for him to walk you home then have to head the way back here.

The lights from the back area turn off and Frankie already walks out towards you with his coat on.

Your eyes go wide.

“Come on.” He gently nudges you with his kind eyes and your body moves on autopilot.

Once outside the cold galvanizes you. The sky above stretches out a misty blue while the edges of evening’s midnight coloring slowly creeps in.

The entire walk back to your farm Frankie stays in step with you. The conversation is light, easy, simple talk of how his and your day went. Your heart hammers in your chest. Yet, it’s comforting to have someone beside you. He’s warm and stays close.

Now your farm stretches before you a soft welcome home. Frankie, like the gentleman he is, walks you to the door.

Appreciative, you warmly thank him and wish him a safe trip back home.

“Thanks and stay warm, little farmer.” He grins softly, kind.

After a sweet wave goodbye to him, you walk off the porch to do all the final errands before you call it a night.

“Wait, what’re you doing?” Frankie suddenly calls out and curiosity colors his voice.

You glance back and see he hasn’t moved an inch.

With an eased sleepy smile you tell him you have a few last minute things you need to do. Like check on your winter seeds, double check the coop and then make sure the pipes are covered.

“You need help?” He warmly asks concerned and sincere.

“Oh no, I’m good I promise!” You reply. If you were braver you’d joke about not wanting to hurt his pretty hands.

“Besides, you need to get home.” You firmly tell him.

It’s getting darker, not completely night out, but you feel guilty for Frankie walking out here.

So with one final sigh you give him a warm goodbye.

“Stay warm tonight, Morales.”

Frankie quietly grins back and you hope he makes it home safe. Now your focus turns to the small field and you kneel before it.

Your winter seeds aren’t ready just yet. A dread fills you wondering if they will last against the storm.

“What are you growing?”

Frankie.

You didn’t even hear his footsteps in the snow. Whipping your head up you watch Frankie lean down to squat beside you.

“You should be walking home!” You cry out surprised.

Frankie shrugs sleepily. “It’s still early, I’ll be fine.”

You make an indignant squeak that makes him chuckle. Frankie’s eyes return to the little saplings still making their way through the snow, stubbornly growing against the harsh winter.

“They’re just winter seeds.” You sigh explaining how you’ve been growing them mainly for the experience and money.

“You think they’re gonna make it?” He asks gently.

You hope so.

You’re about to get up when Frankie quickly stands above with his hand outstretched to you. Even though your hands are gloved and so are his, a flutter runs through your chest when you place your hand in his. Frankie lifts you up effortlessly and you thank him, trying to steady yourself.

“Alright, what’s next?” Frankie asks light.

“For you to go home, Morales!” You laugh.

“Well you’re walking towards the barn so…kinda doesn’t seem like you’re finished yet.” Frankie comments almost shyly as he stays walking beside you.

“I’m not, but I don’t need your help. Go home!” You urge with a weak laugh. Frankie simply shrugs.

Sliding open the coop door, warmth begs you to come inside. You’re thankful for investing in those barn heaters.

“Your chickens are so big.” Frankie admires quietly in awe at the sleeping birds.

You smile while double checking the coop. Everything seems secure and safe for whatever might come this way tonight.

Stepping back outside the cold air seems still, quiet.

“You need to head home.” You tell him sternly, more worried than ever about his walk back to town.

“What’s next?” He asks with steeled resolve in his voice with no sign of leaving.

“Go home Francisco.” You firmly urge saying his full name.

But then you catch the sight of your pipes and sigh. So you almost did forget to wrap them.

“You didn't wrap your pipes?” He sounds a bit worried.

“I thought I did earlier…” Now you’re extra grateful for double checking.

When the first snow came at the start of winter, everyone reassured you the pipes would be fine. It was during harder snow storms, blizzards, that you needed to be careful. And now one approaches fast.

Frankie follows you inside the house to grab the necessary materials.

You can’t even process him being in your home for the first time. Simply on a mission you and him work together swiftly grabbing duck tape, a ratty old towel and head to the pipes.

It’s a swift team effort. In minutes, the pipes are securely wrapped safely and snug. You and him even share a triumphant high five.

“I wish I could invite you in for a thank you hot chocolate but you need to head home now.” You press.

Frankie, with his hands in his coat pockets, shrugs easily.

“I can stay for some thank you hot coco.” He offers.

“You gotta get home before the storm hits!” You shriek.

He waves you off casually. “It’s not coming till later tonight I’ll be fine. Now come on, don’t you wanna impress me with your hot chocolate skills?”

The smirk he gives you is so boyishly charming, almost like he’s daring you to invite him in.

This side of him is rare. You’ve only seen him get this smug and cocky at the saloon during a game of darts. Now your heart flutters fast in your chest.

“Come on,” He pouts. “Think of this as a way to help keep me warm on the walk back.”

He makes a point. The panic of wanting him to make it home safe before the storm, becomes smaller against the thought of spending more time with this man.

To have this man in your home.

So with a sigh of defeat you crack. Nudging your chin towards the door, you let Frankie in.

He’s in your home now. You need to stay composed.

You do have budding feelings for him, something that’s evolved out of the simple crush you had. And having him here in your home feels like dipping your toe into the deep end of a pool before jumping in. But you shake those thoughts away.

“Your place is nice.” Frankie admires and you thank him.

It’s still small, cozy now that you’re slowly allowing yourself to fully settle into the old bones of your grandpa’s home.

You want to say more until Frankie’s stomach suddenly growls.

Looking at him with surprised eyes, he stares back with beautiful eyes the size of the full moons.

“Shit.”

You laugh at his panicked response.

“You okay with maybe staying and having a quick dinner or should I really kick you out so you can head home?” You leave the option up to him, place the ball in his court.

Frankie with the most bashful smile slides off his coat.

“Dinner sounds great, little farmer.”

Your heart floats up and gets tangled in your throat, but it’s incredible.

You have the leftover lasagna Evelyn gave you as a thank you. But you also think of the soup recipe you've been dying to make for this weather.

So you leave it up to your guest for the night.

“Soup or leftover lasagna?” You offer light.

Frankie’s eyebrows scrunched together adorable, thinking hard at the two options, and you keep back a giggle.

“Will the soup take you a while to make?” He sounds sweetly concerned.

You swear it will take less than twenty minutes.

“Soup it is.” Frankie grins and it touches his eyes.

You begin grabbing the various ingredients and hate how hyper aware you feel even in your own house.

“So what can I help with?” Frankie now slides beside you and you almost squeak in surprise.

For someone who makes so much noise when he works, you find he’s rather quiet, swift.

“You’re my guest, so don’t worry. Plus you’ve helped enough!” You shoo him away and don’t miss the way he playfully glares at you.

Conversation again unfolds effortlessly with him. Frankie talks about how Mayor Lewis was in the shop earlier bragging about you hitting a full year in the valley.

“And here I thought everyone had stopped gossiping about me.” You snort lightly and start grabbing the bowls.

It will be a full year since you moved to your grandpa’s family farm. However, you wonder when the newness of you living here will subside.

“There’s… still some gossip of course. Small town after all.” Frankie admits shyly, like a school boy admitting a secret.

“But don’t worry, I don’t let any of ‘em talk bad about you in my shop.” Frankie, endearingly sweet, adds. His words knock you breathless and you almost drop the bowls.

“I knew I could count on you, Morales.” You manage to say with a grin.

Thankfully quick, the soup turns out comforting and delicious. Frankie even gushes about how incredible it is and your ego inflates wild.

“Thanks so much for dinner.” Frankie beams with the brightness of a sun.

“Please, I’m the one who’s thankful for all your help.” You earnestly tell him.

“Plus, it’s nice to have good company for dinner.” You add.

“I understand,” Frankie nods. “Gets a bit quiet around my place too. S’nice to change it up.”

A dual sided emotion settles in you. You ache understanding but also yearn to uncover more about this beautiful and sturdy man.

Before you can dive more into this discussion, Frankie’s phone rings wild and loud. Hastily scrambling to grab it, once he discovers who’s calling his face drops for a flicker of a moment.

“Sorry little farmer, but gotta excuse myself real quick is that alright?” His voice wavers.

Of course you earnestly reassure him and even direct him to the bathroom so he can talk in private. Frankie thanks you graciously then rushes out.

The house is quiet and he didn’t fully close the bathroom door fully. So his conversation leaks out enough for you to catch it.

“Wait, so you wannna just spring this on me now?” His voice slices out sharp. You’ve never heard Frankie sound this upset.

“Yes of course I’m gonna take her. But do you know how fucking shitty this is, Diana? Did you even think about my schedule before you fucking planned this trip?” He snaps.

You’ve also never heard him curse and it snaps your snipe straight. He sighs incredibly frustrated and angered, allowing whoever is on the phone to talk.

“Oh yeah, yeah, real fucking nice. Always make me the bad guy, right?”

Then Frankie starts speaking fast and low in Spanish you can’t catch what he’s saying. His tone however feels barbed and venomous.

So many questions bubble up. You believe you heard the name ‘Diana’ but this could be a conversation about anything.

Now thinking about it, even though you’ve been here almost a full year… you don’t know much about Frankie personally and that truth sinks your heart.

Silence now settles into your home until Frankie’s footsteps echo returning down the hall.

“I’m so sorry.” Frankie’s voice jolts the air but with a deep sadness. “I think I’m gonna have to save that cup of hot chocolate for another day.”

You kind of figured. Besides, you didn’t want him to get caught in the storm.

Outside the air has chilled, but thankfully the snow hasn’t begun.

“Had a great time tonight, thanks again for having me for.” An earnest grace radiates from his words.

You’re the one who’s truly thankful for him and you repeatedly tell him that.

Unfortunately a dread hits you. You want to make sure he makes it home. Your worry must be evident on your face because Frankie’s eyes cloud with caution.

“Wait, what’s wrong?”

When you tell him, a beautiful relief melts on Frankie’s face that you almost wish you could capture.

“Oh come on, that’s easy to fix, little farmer.”

He pulls out his phone and hands it to you.

He’s asking for your number.

Your heart beats so rapidly in your ears when you type your digits in.

“I’ll message you when I get home. Promise.” His warm voice is gilded with truth.

“Stay safe okay Frankie?” You tell him and his gorgeous eyes soften.

“Yeah, will do. And you stay safe too okay, little farmer? Stay warm and if you need anything.”

He holds his phone up and playfully wiggles it, a signal to say you should call him. You smile unbearably big and stay on the porch watching him leave until he vanishes from your sight.

You keep busy so you’re not simply staring at your phone waiting for his message. You clean up the remnants of dinner and feel comforted seeing two bowls in your sink.

Then your phone chimes and you scramble.

An message from an unknown number:

[Made it home safe!]

Another message flickers in.

[Also this is Frankie btw :)]

[Hi! 🪓]

The little ax emoji he adds makes you giggle giddy over how adorable this man can be.

You add his name and contact info into your phone. It warms you better than any sip of hot chocolate could.

- ❆ -

“Why do we even gotta celebrate ice?” One of the kids, you think Vincent, shouts that as you reach the edge of the forest and you snicker.

When you heard about the festival of ice, it simply sounded like a way for the town to break up the winter days. But it also reminded you how earnest and endearing the town can be.

Your heart jumps fast spotting Frankie bundled in his cozy jacket. He stands close to Willy and the two of them talk low, completely engaged with each other.

Whatever they’re discussing seems serious, evident in Frankie’s hard frown and Willy’s unusual somber expression. You decide not to interrupt them.

The fishing game is the highlight of the festival and to no shock the town’s head fisherman wins.

“It’s rigged.” You tease Willy and his hearty laugh is contagious.

“Don’t worry, next year you’ll be puttin’ me to shame.” Willy proudly declares.

When the event concludes for the day, Frankie already walks off without saying a word to you.

You try not to think about it too much.

When you’re about to head to bed, you find a message alert on your phone.

Frankie:

[Good try with the fishing tournament today! Sorry I didn’t get to talk to you today… have a lot of stuff going on. Also Willy wins every year. Think Lewis even adds fish into his crate to make sure it happens lol you’re the real winner in my book ]

You laugh as warmth balloons rapidly in your chest.

This message feels like a true victory for the day and it carries you for the rest of the week. Especially with how hard and brisk this final season of the year is.

Everyone warned you winter would be tough, and with your greenhouse still unfixed you’re realizing how true the warning is.

The days drag and bleed together. You throw yourself into the mines trying to gather more resources but that drains you fast. So you start doing a few errands around town to break up the days.

When Frankie requests a certain amount of wood you scramble quickly to complete the errand.

Inside the blacksmith shop, the familiar warmth greets you. However when Frankie walks out, a weariness looms over him. Heavy bangs hang around his eyes even as he smiles thin.

“Hey.” His voice is weary.

“Hey.” You reply back hesitantly. “I uh…have the wood you asked for.”

“Oh shit really?” He perks up. “Thanks, little farmer.”

You beam proud knowing you managed to at least brighten his day a little.

“Wait here, let me get your payment.”

You almost want to tell him that wasn’t necessary, but Frankie scrambles for his wallet.

“So, how ya been?” He asks.

“Good.” You partially lie. “How have you been?”

“Good.” He answers quickly, however you sense a lie buried.

You weakly smile. Exhausted, Frankie barely grins back and a pang pierces through you.

“Hey… Frankie.” You begin weakly. Frankie, midway pulling out your payment, freezes and blinks towards you.

“Yeah, little farmer what’s up?”

You know this might not mean much but you want to at least tell him.

“I just…” the words get stuck in your throat but with a deep inhale you unclog them.

“You just seem tired. I appreciate how hard you work but I just hope you get some rest when you can.” You tell him earnestly. “And… if there’s anything bothering you, I just wanted you to know you can always talk to me.”

You finish and hope you didn’t overstep.

Frankie’s gemstone eyes flicker stunned and then he sighs.

For the first time, Frankie slips his very notable baseball cap off and runs a hand over his hair.

His soft hat hair, the way you get this new glimpse of Frankie, lights something within your chest. You’ve never seen him without his cap. When he slips the baseball hat back on, his eyes seem cloudy and downcast.

“Thanks little farmer, appreciate it.” He mutters with another sigh. “It’s just stupid shit with my ex wife that’s taking longer than I expected to work out.”

Frankie’s words catapult you straight out of the atmosphere and your blood runs cold.

Ex wife.

Frankie was married before.

“I shouldn’t let it bother me and I don’t wanna be that type of ex husband, but holy shit she can be so damn difficult.” He shakes his head.

This feels like you’re meeting him again for the first time. But you’re grateful he’s sharing this with you.

“I’m sorry you have to deal with this and with her being difficult.” You reply with a soft comfort.

“You’re a good guy Frankie. I hope she doesn’t make you forget that.” You add, meaning those words.

You and him might have just recently become closer, but this entire year you’ve been living in Pelican Town Frankie’s been so sincerely kind. Always being patient with you and how awful you sometimes are to your poor tools. Even just seeing his soft shy smile when you run into him has brightened your day many times.

Frankie’s eyes finally flicker to you. They search your face like he’s waiting for you to react.

His mouth opens slightly.

Then he says your name, breathes it out, and it kickstarts a wild flutter in your heart.

But the door suddenly yanks open wildly behind you, cutting him off rapidly.

Robin, the town’s ever handy carpenter, arrives with a warm welcome drawing all the attention to her. The moment flutters away with her entrance. With a fast goodbye to Frankie and a swift warm greeting to Robin, you scramble fast to leave.

“Wait I didn’t-”

You don’t even wait to hear what Frankie has to say before you’re out of the door and back into the cold winter air. With so many thoughts buzzing in your head like angry hornets you simply head to the mines.

You stay there until the dead of night and drag your body back to farm. Even with how tired you are, your mind still thinks of a certain blacksmith.

The next morning there are two letters waiting for you. One is from Lewis reminding you of the upcoming Winter Star festival. The other is from Frankie.

Your heart jumps fast.

Little farmer,

Thanks for thinking of me and wanting to look out for me. Appreciate it a lot. Also you forgot your payment yesterday, silly! Don’t work yourself too hard either. So you get some rest too, alright?

Hope you swing by again and maybe soon we’ll have time for that hot chocolate :)

He not only sent you the payment for the errand but also a sweet pack of maple bars.

An overwhelming sweetness consumes you and you wish it never leaves.

The next day you plan to make Frankie a hot chocolate to bring him in the morning. But you realize you used the last remaining bits a few nights ago when you snuggled in for a cozy reading night. You mentally kick yourself but decide a green tea will hopefully be the best second option.

The minute Frankie’s shop opens you’re there the first one inside.

“You’re here early.” Frankie greets you with crinkled smiling eyes.

“Thought I’d stop by before I head to the mines.” You reply back brightly.

“It’s not hot cocoa, but I hope it’s a nice treat.” You offer lightly while you hand him the cozy to go drink.

“You got this for me? Thanks so much.” Your heart flutters hearing how warm his voice gets.

He takes a sip and his eye brows shoot up under the cover of his hat. Oh no. Does he not like it?

“Is this green tea?” His voice jumps so excited. “I love green tea!”

His brilliant smile creates a sun bursting light in your chest and you’re a bit grateful now you ran out of hot chocolate.

- ❆ -

Gus is a full five minutes into his handmade candy cane discussion and while you adore the endearing saloon owner, you can only take so much.

The feast of the evening star still warms and eases you though. The twinkling decorations, the absolute grand festive tree, the delicious food - it’s all a cozy blanket to soak into.

So you allow dear Gus to ramble about his candy canes while you sip on your warm drink.

“So who’s your secret gift recipient?”

Frankie’s soft but playful voice catches you off guard and you almost sputter out your drink.

You caught sight of him earlier but he was busy laughing with Pierre and Caroline. Then you got caught up in greeting everyone. Now you’re thankful to finally talk to him.

“You know that’s a secret.” You playfully glare at him.

The blacksmith simply shrugs but the amusement tugging his lips makes you smile.

A beautiful flush crawls over Frankie’s face. A kaleidoscopic joy sparkles in his deep eyes. He seems better and joy fills you.

“So does that mean you’re not gonna tell me what your winter star wish is?” He asks light.

You roll your eyes, but giddiness consumes you fast.

“You tell me yours and I’ll tell you mine.” You surprisingly coyly reply.

Frankie snorts and his face crinkles up adorable.

“If I told ya, you probably wouldn’t even believe me.” He says casually then takes a sip of his drink.

“Wait,” you reply back. “Now you gotta tell me.”

Frankie doesn’t reply for a moment.

In the stillness of this moment, you notice how close he is. He’s leaning right beside you that you can smell the faint smoke of his work, and a crisp cologne you’ve never noticed before.

Then, you see it. His stunning amber gemstone eyes flicker to your lips.

It’s fast, happens in a breath of a moment. Your throat dries. You blame the warm food and festive atmosphere, but you ache to lean closer.

Before you can react or even wait for Frankie’s next move, Mayor Lewis claps loudly, breaking the spell.

“Time to exchange gifts everybody!” He declares.

Your body feels electric and immediately you try settling yourself down. You needed to give your gift.

Jodi, the sweet mother she is, deserves a nice sweet treat and you surprise her with a fully cooked chocolate cake. Her warm excited reaction is a treat itself.

Evelyn, ever the kind grandmother, gives you a pack of her delicious and warm cookies. You hug her tight thanking her.

The festival concludes with a gentle end and fizzles out softly. The clean up is eased, relaxed, and by the time it’s finished an unfortunately long yawn takes over you.

“Can I walk ya home, little farmer? You seem tired.”

Frankie again, so stealthy, suddenly appears out of thin air.

You squeak out a quick yes and his face melts soft.

“So a full year down huh? Hope we haven’t scared you off too badly.” Frankie offers hopeful.

It has been a year, feels like so much yet so little has been composed into your new life here in Pelican Town. You think of the dilapidated community center you’ve been keeping an eye on and working on.

You’ve taken this new journey slowly, at your own pace. You can almost hear your grandpa’s voice cheering you on saying just take it one step at a time.

“No way.” You laugh answering Frankie’s question. If anything, you’ve grown more attached to the valley than you ever imagined. You even tell Frankie this and his face lights up so beautifully it rivals the festival tree standing in the town plaza.

“Everything work out with your ex?” You ask gently and then sputter out an apology if you’ve overstepped.

Frankie chuckles. “Nah, I’m glad we can talk about it.”

That comforts you.

“And yeah, thankfully everything worked out.” Frankie grins sleepily. “I’m still really sorry you had to hear that.”

“No worries! And like what you just said, I’m glad I can be here for you. That’s what friends are for, remember?” You reassure him.

“Yeah, friends.” The way his voice hangs on the word friends gets tangled in your chest.

A quietness clouds the walk.

“So Gus tell you about homemade candy canes?” Until Frankie’s light voice breaks the silence and you laugh.

It might have been a slow start becoming friends with Frankie. But you’re glad, grateful, to finally arrive here.

Arriving at your farm you thank Frankie again.

“If it wasn’t so late I really would invite you in for that hot chocolate I’ve been promising you.” You sigh. You even begged Gus for a new pack just to be stocked up.

“Don’t worry about it. There will be another night, promise.” His words are gilded in a promise you want to treasure.

He suddenly says your name and now under the light of your porch, Frankie seems bashful as his eyes flicker around.

“I, uh, kind of have something for you.”

That takes you by surprise.

“Couldn’t give it to you earlier cause I know Mayor Lewis would’ve had my ass.” Frankie dryly snorts and then pulls out something concealed in the classic brown paper wrapping he uses at his shop.

“Happy feast of the winter star, little farmer.” He delicately hands it to you and your eyes feel as if they’re going to pop out any moment.

You cry in protest that he didn’t need to get you anything and guilt rushes in. You didn’t get him anything.

“Eh,” he shrugs. “No pasa nada.”

You’ve only caught small bits of him speaking Spanish before and now hearing him speak so casual sounds beautiful.

Unwrapping the surprise gift, you discover he got you an iridium bar and you inhale sharply.

You haven’t even been able to forge one yet. The most precious, coveted, type of metal bar and he just casually gave one to you right now.

“Francisco Morales, this is too much!” You shriek.

He laughs buoyantly and loud at your reaction.

“Trust me, it’s not. Besides, seen how hard you work. How much you do for me and the town. You deserve it.”

You don’t want to get emotional, but the tears clogging your throat say otherwise. Those tears and the bubbling emotions, gratitude and all other shades of thankfulness, overtake you. Before you can stop yourself you rush to Frankie and collide into him.

You hug him best as you can but realize what you’ve just done. You don’t even know if he’s okay with close contact like this.

Immediately Frankie wraps you in his arms and squeezes you back. He’s all encompassing, beautifully so.

Your mind, your thoughts, everything melt as you embrace him back.

“Thank you.” You earnestly tell him.

“Anytime.” Frankie whispers back.

You would never tell Frankie this… but your winter star wish came true because you couldn’t have wished for a better way to bid such a sweet farewell to this season here in the valley.

#oh I needed this today #here’s to more Stardew sweetness and magic!! if you read thank you so much blacksmith Frankie and I are giving you a stardrop #frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #blacksmith!frankie morales #frankie morales x f!reader #seasons of you fic series #Frankie 🤎#pedrostories

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punkshort · 9 months

Text

Chapter warnings: language, mild violence, angst, weakly implied SA (not explicit at all)

Chapter Six

Pairing: Joel x F!Reader, pre-outbreak and post outbreak

AU (the only thing I kept was the outbreak, Joel, and Tommy's characters. Joel's backstory is different, and the way he finds Jackson is different. I may include Ellie one day, I just haven't planned that far)

Fic Summary: You worked for Joel and Tommy a few months before the outbreak. The outbreak happens, and you and Joel get stuck traveling the country and keeping each other safe. Neither of you spoke about the feelings you had for one another pre-outbreak, and in a post-apocalyptic world, it seems like survival should be your only focus. But feelings can't be ignored forever.

Fic tags: Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI), Smut, Language, Canon-Typical Violence, Alcohol Use, Age Difference (Reader is 10 years younger than Joel), slow burn, mutual pining, angst, trauma, SA referencing later but I will put a big warning on those chapters

Joel sat stunned at his desk after you left. He had never seen that side of you before, always so meek and mild mannered. He shouldn’t have called you a whore. He realized now that was a mistake, letting his unhealed wound caused by another effect the way he treated you.

He rubbed his hands over his face, rethinking the conversation you just had. He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples, trying to soothe his temper so he could think straight. Ok, so you were flirting with some other guy. That wasn’t a crime. He held no claim to you, you had only just kissed the night before, and you were both drinking. Does that even count?

Even if he disregarded the kiss last night, you still had been giving him signs showing your interest, right? Did he misread everything?

Frustrated, he stood up and paced the room again, recounting every interaction he had with you, trying to figure out if the way you acted towards him was just because he was your boss, or if you felt something more.

That one night in the conference room, he swore he saw your knees press together under the table, and he thought you were looking at him like you wanted to take things further, but maybe he came on too strong. Maybe you didn’t know how to react.

He was over analyzing everything now. The way you stepped away from him when he got too close picking up that box for you. How you purposely left his office door open when you came up to see him. Shit, has he been making you feel uncomfortable this entire time?

No, you grabbed his collar and kissed him, he didn’t make that up.

But you were drunk.

Fuck, this was confusing. Joel ran his hands over his face again, pausing to stare out the window. He turned around to head towards the door, and that’s when he spotted it: the small blue package on the floor.

He didn’t even notice you dropped it on your way out, his anger giving him tunnel vision on your retreating form. He reached down to grab it now, easily tearing open the tissue paper. Inside was a keychain: the Texas state flag in the shape of the state it represented. His home.

He stared at it for a moment, imagining you picking it out this morning, having only just known it was his birthday for a few hours. You went out of your way to get him a gift. No one else even bothered to acknowledge his birthday yet today, and here you were, coming into his office to surprise him. And what did he do? He called you a whore.

He was a fucking idiot. He had to find you. He wasn’t sure what he would say, but he had to try to smooth things over.

Joel ran out of his office, jabbing the ‘down’ button on the elevator.

“Joel, I have security on the line, they need to speak with you.” Ruby called out to him from behind her desk, but he waved her off, giving up on the elevator and running towards the stairwell. Once he made it to the 6th floor, he jogged down the aisle that headed towards the accounting department. It took his anxious fingers two tries before his security code worked, pushing the door open, his gaze immediately traveling to your desk.

You weren’t there. He approached it slowly, noticing the picture of your parents was missing.

“Mr. Miller? Can I help you?” the girl he now recognized as Debbie rolled her chair out of her cubical, surprised.

“Yeah, when did she leave?” he gestured towards your desk.

“Maybe 5 minutes ago? She didn’t say anything, she just left. Is she ok?” But Joel ran out of the department, the door swinging back open before Debbie could even finish her question.

Joel raced towards the stairwell. He passed the women’s bathroom, hearing some yelling inside. Right before he opened the door to head downstairs, he heard something crashing to the ground. He didn’t bother to look back, he had to find you.

Gasping for breath, he pushed the door open that entered the lobby. He hurried past the receptionist desk, when a thin girl with curly blonde hair piped up from behind the desk.

“Mr. Miller! The police were just called, something happened upstairs, people are hurt! Security is-”

Joel didn’t hear the rest of the sentence. He forcefully pushed the front door open and stood in front of the building, breathless and frantically looking around trying to spot you. There you were, about half a block away, your hair blowing in the wind as you hunched over the box you were carrying.

Joel called your name, but you didn’t turn around. He called it again and again, and still no response. You probably couldn’t hear him over all these people yelling on the street. Why were they yelling?

Finally, on the fourth attempt to get your attention, you slowed your pace, but still did not turn to face him. He couldn’t blame you. He ran to catch up with you, reaching out to put his hand on your shoulder. Finally, you turned around to look at him, your gaze distant and face carved with fury. He could see the tears in your eyes and the pain on your face that he caused. His chest tightened. He hated seeing that, and he hated even more that he caused it.

“Please, just stop and listen to me,” Joel panted, desperate to make you stop so he could catch his breath. Running down ten flights of stairs really made him feel his age.

He opened his mouth to make a poor attempt at an apology when six trucks rolled up to a screeching stop in front of his building. Dozens of armed soldiers with FEDRA adornments spilled from the trucks, charging into the office. The two of you stood together, stunned at what you were seeing. Then Joel heard the screaming, followed closely by gunfire. He grabbed both of your shoulders now, realizing this was serious and he needed to get you to safety. “Run!” he yelled at you, but you just stood there before him, a dazed look on your face. He gave your shoulders a quick shake and repeated himself: “Run!!”

That seemed to do the trick. Your gaze cleared, dropping the box you were carrying as he grabbed your hand, hauling you as far as he could in the opposite direction.

Joel nearly pulled your arm out of its socket dragging you down the street, careening around groups of people on the sidewalk, and ducking when bullets sounded too close. You clutched your purse against your body with the opposite arm, and briefly looked across the street to see crowds of people running in the same direction as you. You occasionally bounced off of bodies as Joel dragged you further away from your building. Finally, you reached the end of the street, about to cross, only to see more FEDRA trucks and soldiers bearing down on the crowds of people surrounding you from around the corner. You both paused long enough to see soldiers tackling and pinning down innocent civilians, their screams of terror filling your ears.

Joel yanked you in the opposite direction and around the corner, fleeing down a secluded alleyway, desperately trying to find someplace safe to hide. You heard yells and snarls somewhere in your wake, but you didn't dare turn and look, you had to keep pushing forward.

You both stumbled into a small courtyard, scattered with random pieces of patio furniture and surrounded by buildings. The two of you paused a moment to catch your breath and get your bearings. Joel whipped his head around and looked up at the sudden deafening noise of a helicopter overhead. Before it could spot the pair of you, he hauled you down another small alleyway that was empty, and even had a bit of aerial coverage due to a fire escape.

You both gasped for breath, frantically looking around to make sure no soldiers were nearby. As the roar of the helicopter faded and your breathing evened out, you finally looked at one another.

"Why is this happening? Is it a terrorist attack?" You asked him, your hands were shaking and you didn't realize you had been crying.

"Those were FEDRA soldiers attackin' people, I don't think it's terrorists," Joel said, letting go of your hand for the first time so he could rub his face. He glanced around again. You were between to a two story building and what looked like a hair salon. He took note of the fire escape above your heads.

"Alright, there must be offices or apartments or somethin' up there, let me see if there's anyone on the street first, then let's see if we can get in and wait this out."

He moved to poke his head out, but you grabbed him by the shoulders, yanking him back in a panic. He looked at you, taking in the fear on your tear streaked face and your trembling hands.

He picked up both your hands and grasped them in his own, holding them against his chest. "Look at me. Breathe, c'mon," he mimicked deeply inhaling through his nose and exhaling out his mouth until you did the same. He waited until your hands steadied a bit before saying, "Now I need to see what's goin' on out there, we need to get off the street. I promise, it will be OK."

You nodded, letting your arms fall to your sides and out of his hold. As Joel slowly peeked his head out, you kept your eyes glued to the other end of the alley to watch for anyone sneaking up on you.

"Alright, looks quiet. The door's just a few steps over, I think it's a bodega. There must be apartments up top we can get to, c'mon." He took your hand again, carefully exiting the alley and only bringing you out behind him once he confirmed no one was around. He pushed on the door, but it wouldn't budge. He gave it another shove, this time more forcefully. You could hear the bells on the other side of the door jingling. Worried you were too exposed and making too much noise, you pulled on Joel's arm, begging him to give up and think of another plan, when you both froze. You heard the lock clicking on the other side, and the door pushed open a crack.

An elderly man peered out through thick framed glasses, eyeing you both up carefully. "Either of you sick?" He asked, still keeping the door mostly closed.

"No, we ain't sick, we're just lookin' to get off the streets, soldiers are killin' folks out here," Joel replied, "please, we won't stay longer than we have to, you got my word."

The older man considered Joel's words for a moment, and then pulled the door open all the way, hurriedly ushering you both inside. He locked the door behind you, and pulled the diamond shaped metal security door in place after. You noticed he already had the windows secured with the same measures.

Joel was right: it was a little bodega. Your eyes swept around the shop, aisles filled mostly with snacks and other sundries. Along the back wall was a refrigerated and frozen section, towards the front where you entered was the cash register, and behind it a wall packed with cigarettes, some first aid, electronics, razors, and other items that were frequently pilfered.

You were not alone in the store. There were four others sitting on the floor against the wall. Two men roughly middle aged, one girl a little older than you, and an elderly lady, who you assumed was the owner's wife. The others must have been customers in the shop before the shooting started.

You introduced yourselves to them, sliding down against the wall to the floor next to Joel to rest.

The elderly shop owner rifled behind the counter and procured a bulky radio. He placed it on the counter, tuning it to find a station that could give you some clue as to what was going on.

One of the men, Dan, addressed the room: "Anyone know what's going on out there?"

Paul, the other man, spoke up. "I don't know, man, but I've heard some freaky fuckin' shit. Someone I ran into out there said people are biting other people, makin' them go all crazy, tryin' to eat each other."

Joel scoffed, "C'mon, that's bullshit. Ain't no way that's happenin'."

"Man, it's fuckin' insane out there. The news was talkin' about the hospitals bein' overrun with some virus, then this happens? I'm just sayin', it ain't as crazy as it sounds." Paul replied, shaking his head.

"I saw it." The girl, Lindsey, spoke up quietly, staring distantly at the ground. "I saw someone bite another person. But they didn't look like a person anymore... their skin was gross, and they were missing hair. They looked almost like an animal or something, the way they jerked their body around."

The room fell silent for a few moments, everyone taking in what Lindsey said. Colleen, you thought to yourself, as you tucked your knees up against your chest, resting your chin on top, and clutching your purse to your side. She was bit, and she looked sick. Was FEDRA at your building because she was biting people? You shuddered at how close you came to being a victim. Joel saw and whispered, "You ok?"

You nodded sharply, not wanting to look him in the eye. You still remembered those words he said to you, those words so filled with hate and disgust all because you wouldn't put out. And now you were depending on this man who couldn't stand you to get you to safety. The only man you knew in this city that for sure was still alive.

A robotic voice from the radio filled the quiet room. It was announcing an emergency, clarifying it was not a test. It advised listeners to stay inside with doors locked, that the federal military has been deployed and to not open your door for anyone except them.

The message repeated over and over. You sighed, the events of the day catching up with you. The kindly bodega owner told you all to help yourselves to the food available, so you grabbed a few bottles of water, some granola bars, a bag of chips and a candy bar. You were starving, realizing you hadn't eaten lunch and it was getting late.

You returned to your spot against the wall, and halfway through your second granola bar, Joel rejoined you. He had grabbed some water as well, but picked up some beef jerky, trail mix, and a couple other things. The others had begun to mill around and stretch their legs, chatting amongst each other to keep their minds off the horrors outside.

"You sure you alright?" Joel asked softly while biting into another piece of jerky.

"Fine." You said curtly, keeping your gaze down. You knew this wasn't the time to unearth your problems, not with the world conceivably ending around you. "Thank you. For, you know, finding somewhere safe and all that."

He paused, looking at you for a moment like he wanted to say something, but didn't know how. "You're welcome, sw-, uh," Joel stuttered, almost using his pet name for you, but remembering the way he said it last time, decided it wasn't a good idea. "I'm just glad we made it. We'll figure this out and get you back to your family."

Your family. You hadn't even let your thoughts drift to your family, they must be worried sick. Your mom especially, who always tried to talk you out of moving here. You had to try to call them at the very least.

"Do you have your cell phone?" You asked Joel, looking him in the eye for the first time since you entered the bodega.

"Yeah, 'course, here." He reached into his pocket and handed the phone to you. You flipped it open and dialed your house phone, but all you heard on the other end was 'We're sorry, your call cannot be completed. Please hang up and try again.'

So you did just that, several times. You groaned in frustration, flipping the phone shut and handed it back to Joel. "Thanks anyway," you said.

"Phone lines must be down, dear," the owner's wife spoke up after seeing you struggle. "Our landline isn't working, either."

You looked in her direction and nodded sadly. The only hope you had now was to make it to a safe zone the government hopefully sets up, and you could try to contact them that way.

It turned out, Lenny and Maria, the bodega owners, lived in the apartment above the shop. They went upstairs and brought down as many extra pillows, blankets and cushions as they could find. They explained their apartment was small, only one bedroom, but they did have a couch. The group unanimously agreed Lindsey should take the couch. The poor girl was there alone, and it wasn't courteous for Dan or Paul to claim it, so it was a no brainer. They left the key to the bathroom on the counter by the register and headed off to bed.

You had created as comfortable a bed as you could, laying down a thick blanket against the wall on the tile underneath, and covering yourself with another. Luckily, the bodega had a few shirts for sale, as well as toothbrushes and toothpaste. You snagged a shirt that had the NY Mets logo on it and changed out of your work top in the bathroom, folding up your blouse and placing it gently near your pillow.

Joel had chosen to make his own bed next to yours. He gave you a little space, but not much. He didn't know these two men you shared the room with: they seemed like they were trustworthy, but things can deteriorate quickly when people realize no one is around to enforce the rules anymore.

You turned on your side to face the wall, tucking the blanket under your chin. Joel looked over at you, the dim glow from the refrigerators casting over your form, as he watched the steady rise and fall of your breath. You were so scared earlier, the way you grabbed him in the alley with that wild look in your eye, probably in shock after what he put you through, and then the chaos that ensued. He rubbed the heels of his hands into his tired eyes.

He needed to apologize. When the time is right, he needed to explain himself. Right now would not be that time. He could tell you had been through too much today and needed your rest. It was then that Joel vowed to himself to get you to safety. If he ruined his chance with you, the least he could do was make sure you were safe.

He laid on his side and faced your direction, watching your breathing slow when you fell asleep. In a different world, right now he would be out with Tommy celebrating his birthday, and hopefully riding the high of you accepting his date. Instead, he yelled at you and the world went to shit. Christ, was Tommy ok? Did he know what was happening here? Was it happening anywhere else?

His eyelids grew heavy. He shifted so the keychain in his pocket didn't dig into his thigh. He took one last look at you before shutting his eyes and falling asleep.

The group of you spent the next three days holed up together in the bodega, sharing handfuls of dry cereal and snacking on the food from the shelves. At dinnertime, Maria was generous enough to make everyone a meal in the little kitchen upstairs. You all huddled around their modest dining table, occasionally flipping through the channels on the television, hoping something would appear other than static or the station’s sign-off announcement. Sometimes at night, you could hear gunshots and yelling, but it was far enough away that it didn’t worry you too much. It wasn’t until Tuesday that you heard patrolling soldiers from their trucks, encouraging citizens to come out of their dwellings to be taken to the safety of a quarantine zone.

Joel hesitated at first, remembering how he saw FEDRA soldiers tackling innocent people in the streets, but he didn’t see any other option. He couldn’t reunite you with your family if you stayed holed up in a bodega, and even if he could make it to his car and drive you himself, the entire city was on lockdown.

The group of you filed out of the bodega slowly when you heard a FEDRA truck approaching down the street. A few soldiers jogged up, inspecting you all carefully, asking questions like “Does anyone have a fever?” and “Was anybody bit or attacked?” Once it was clear you were all healthy, you climbed into the back of the truck, clutching your purse, your folded work blouse shoved inside.

The makeshift quarantine zone was set up at a high school on the edge of the city. The soldiers explained it was less populated in that area, and therefore less infected people. You connected the dots: the questions about bites, the infection, the fever. It seemed like the crazy rumor Paul and Lindsey talked about was true, people really were going insane and hurting others.

Everybody stood in a line and waited to be processed at the entrance of the school. The soldiers took turns taking each of you into a small room to inspect you closer for any bites and checked your temperatures before allowing you to continue. At the next station, you were each handed a thin blanket, a pillow, and a small bag of essential toiletries, then led through the doors into the school’s gymnasium.

The room was enormous; filled with people, bags and cots. Beside you, Lindsey cried out in joy, bolting across the room when she saw a man she recognized, presumedly a husband or boyfriend. Dan and Paul wished the rest of you well, thanked the older couple again for their hospitality, and drifted away into the crowd.

You gave Maria and Lenny each a hug, thanking them over and over for keeping you safe, and promised to return to their shop once everything went back to normal. Then it was just you and Joel again.

He led you around the various clusters of people until you found an unclaimed cot. You tossed your provisions and your purse on one end and looked back up at Joel.

“Well, I guess this is it,” he said, glancing around the room trying to think of something else to say. Neither of you had talked about the argument you had, and the more time that passed, the more difficult it became. You stared down at your hands while fidgeting with the hem of your shirt, all the words left unsaid just kept getting pushed further and further down.

“Uh, once you get settled in, go find one of them soldiers at the entrance and see if they can’t contact your folks for you,” Joel said, shifting his weight. “I’m sure they can find someone out there.”

You nodded, keeping your head down and biting your lower lip anxiously. The only person you knew who was alive in this city was leaving you. You tried to keep him from seeing how nervous you were, so you turned to spread your blanket out on your cot, and began to sift through the bag of toiletries to occupy yourself.

Joel watched as you slowly unpacked your things, the words he so desperately needed to say stuck in his throat. Just say it, say you’re sorry, you will never get another chance again.

He opened his mouth, but the words wouldn’t come out. He wasn’t sure why he couldn’t say it. Maybe because he thought it wouldn’t matter, maybe the seriousness of the situation everyone was in took precedence, or maybe because you had hardly spoken a word to him since the outbreak. Instead, he turned and walked towards the opposite side of the gym, setting his stuff down on an empty cot next to another man. He was wearing a Yankees hat on top of his bald head, sporting a full, dark beard and hiding a beer gut under his worn out white T-shirt.

"Hey, man," he stretched his arm out to Joel, "Louis."

Joel shook his hand, "Joel." He muttered, glancing back towards your direction.

"If you wanted a spot closer to your girl, I can switch." Louis offered, following Joel's gaze.

Joel shook his head. "She ain't my girl," he said sadly.

"Ah, yeah, man, I get it." Louis replied, scooting closer on his cot so he could lean closer to Joel. "Let me give you some advice though: if you care about her at all, you won't leave her alone here, you get me?" His voice was lower now, capturing Joel's attention away from you.

"What do you mean?" Joel asked, eyebrows raised. Louis looked back in your direction as you stood up to follow Joel's advice about speaking to one of the soldiers.

"I mean, I've heard some shit, at night. We all have. There's a couple girls who are here without anyone, and some men around here have noticed." Louis put emphasis on the last word to imply something dark.

Joel frowned, leaning back and glancing around the room. He did notice there were hardly any women that were alone, most of them were with family or friends. Then he saw a small group of three men diagonal across the room, their eyes following you as you exited to speak to the soldiers about your parents.

He looked back at Louis, shocked. Louis nodded subtly towards another group behind the two of you, who also had been looking in your direction. Jesus, things really went to shit quickly.

"What the fuck?" Joel whispered towards Louis angrily, his jaw clenching. "Why haven't you told the soldiers?"

"We do, man. Every time. I don't think they care, they are more worried about infected than stuff like that. I'm starting to wonder if some of the soldiers are in on it, too." Louis shook his head, adding "When my wife gets here, we are leaving fucking immediately, I suggest you take her somewhere else."

Joel rubbed his hands over his face. "Where else is there?"

"I don't know, man, people are saying this virus is all over, not just the city. But I'm not letting my wife stay here. I'd rather take my chances out there." Louis hitched his thumb over his shoulder, gesturing towards outside.

Joel sighed. "Alright, thanks. D'you mind swappin' with her? I'll get us outta here tomorrow."

Louis packed up what little items he had, and headed over with Joel towards your cot. You had just sat back down, looking defeated and lost. The solider said they would try to help you out if they could, but they weren't making promises, that everyone in this place was looking to contact someone.

"Hey, c'mon, get your stuff, you're comin' over by me," Joel said gruffly, still angry about what was happening here. You looked up at them both, confused. "Why?"

"I'll explain later, just hurry up before someone else takes the spot." Joel avoided looking you in the eye and instead glanced back over his shoulder, noticing the group of men from earlier were watching.

You wanted to argue with him, but thought better of it. He's been sleeping next to you for the past three nights, what difference did it make now.

Nodding at Louis, who shot you a tight smile and set his stuff down on your now vacated cot, you got up to follow Joel across the room.

The next morning, you woke up early, before the sun, to see Joel with his back to you, sitting on his cot, alert and wide awake. You laid there for a while, running your eyes up and down his back and across his broad shoulders, taking in his striking side profile when his head turned. Even though you were so badly hurt by his words, you were still undeniably attracted to him, which was incredibly frustrating. You let your eyelids flutter back closed, and replayed the kiss you shared over and over in your mind. It felt like a lifetime ago, but it gave you some comfort, ignoring everything that happened after that kiss.

When the sun filtered in through the gymnasium windows, you begrudgingly pulled yourself up, stretching and yawning, finding Joel was packing up his things. "What're you doing?" You asked sleepily.

"We're leavin', get your stuff." He replied, not looking up.

Joel hadn't told you why he wanted you to switch spots closer to him, and you didn't ask again. You weren't sure you wanted to know. You just packed up your things quickly, and stood to follow him out of the room. You passed by Louis on the way out. Joel reached out to shake his hand once more, and Louis nodded to you, saying, "Stay safe out there, sweetheart."

You gave him a small smile, trying not to show the sadness that filled you to hear the term of endearment Joel used to use, and exited the school the same way you arrived.

Chapter Seven

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